Not here anymore

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The sound of the crashing waves
Reminds me of a time
When the silhouette of the silver moon
Slowly melted in his eyes
And the shallow sand
Too shy of his charm
Slipped across his tender fingers.
I could almost trace 
This uncalled movement of his hair
While he smelled of this sweet summer rain
I am to ascertain his presence 
If he was any real
Because he no longer sits here 
To be washed ashore with me.

He is no longer here.

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