Zine Page 5

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She is missing.

She is slipping.

Her world is out of my hands.

But I cannot Cease,

for it is , at times, at my fingertips.

I've touched what's tangible,

though never mine to grasp.

I have a fingerprint...a footprint...

somewhere in the sand of her beaches.

I wonder if the tide has come in.

charlotus14