Text to a girl from Lake Ontario:
The waves crashing into shore today are uncouth and full of wrath, like a drunken lover who has just struck you in the face. Personally, I love it. Shades of October in July. Must be a storm brewing somewhere over the water.
A Different Kind of Poem:
she speaks to me in starlight
in the depths of night she comes
and whispers of shadows and sorrows,
laughter and song
and secrets known to none
save she and I
under the light of a crescent moon
she loved me as well as she could
somewhat less than I might have liked.
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