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if these stones could talk
they would speak of how we came here –
shaped ourselves boneless
of the salt ocean breath
and cool flame light
of surface shifting water.
long days we drifted so,
forming and formless
gathering light and shape
tasting the spice rush
of embodied form
to dissolve again
scattering the scent of sea roses on the wind
finding voice to sing the oceans birth
until our light turned to matter
and tides bound our form.
some days on misty mornings
when the sea breath hangs
heavy with salt – we come
boundless across the cliffs
spilling formless
through forest trees
hear us
we are singing still.



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