-one last time to see it shine.

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unseized summers meet their end,
seas not swam, sensations unfelt,
all pile up like chores on a checklist;
risk assessments guarding the bliss.

unseized summers bleed into fall,
trickster weather foolishly makes me hope,
that the rotten time is still ripe;
I can still reap, somehow soon sow.

unseized summers' final gasp,
lacrymal ethers' roundelay began.
sea-girt girl asunder yet bargaining:
maybe colder seas can still be swam.

𝗗𝗜𝗥𝗧𝗬 𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗥𝗬 ᵖʳᵒˢᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵒᵉᵗʳʸWhere stories live. Discover now