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At The Time They came Walking and talking In whispers, Pressing bare toes In the sand, She stopped And stood for a second, Slipped silk Gently to land, Reached and drew Him to her, Fell together as if By command, At the time When the day rides The cusp into night, And the tide Licks the lips Of the shore, They mystically mixed As if they never, Ever met magic Before. Stephen Nesbitt ©
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