Ocean’s Beat

I walk the beach looking
for fragments of lives.
Membranes making love
to the Ocean’s heartbeat.

For fragments of lives
to impart wisdom, luck,
from the Ocean’s heartbeat,
there must be a soul.

To impart wisdom
the breathing must be deep.
There must be a soul
to cradle Love’s honey sweet breath.

The breathing must be deeper
than the Ocean’s black throat.
The purple hum of souls
moves along the edge of the sad, sad sun.

The Ocean’s black throat,
people making love
along the edge of the saddest sun;
I walk the beach, just looking.

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