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Slow Dancing
The snowy moon is slow dancing with black icy waters
I envision myself resting on a coastline,
observing waves as they collide into rigid rocks.
Listening to splashing water coming from ahead.
A frosty breeze approaches me,
arriving to my already crimson cheeks.
My light pink lips quiver, my teeth chatter,
from the coolness of a late night wind
I can almost taste salty waters
in the middle of a wintry night.
I wait for morning rise,
hoping that the sun will warm up
another black frosty night.
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