Summer time reminds me of you,
the sandy beaches lay before me,
my eyes cast upon them finding small
imperfections, shells out of place,
lumps in the land, my footprints,
with every detail painting the pasts picture
only to be erased with the coming wind
as the footprints are covered as if a by a brush,
and the tiny imperfections are removed one by one as
new sand covers the past,
I ask that you not bury your past since I
always loved your imperfections.


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