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  • Writer's pictureJuan Calixto

Now till then

Notes of practice

As the waves rolls the cicada calls

The sea breeze caress with ease

but for me... My thoughts go faster than my toes

So what’s the point? If I go...

in fantasies that became anxieties

I get lost in lust

hunger then anger

and nothing anchors me anymore

there isn’t a point so must move on

Till the waves rolls the calls of the cicadas

my heart soft and the breath stops

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