ticks will sound from the second hand,
its impatient little foot dancing on our eardrums.
we will watch the sun inch above the soft treetops. with
each tick, it will grow higher; with each tick, we will
grow closer. it will take time, darling, so
wait with me.
it will be a while. hundreds of
waves will crash over our heads,
their strong swirling hands tangling our hair.
we will hear the waves sizzle as they recede. with
each wave, the sound will grow louder; with each wave, we will
grow closer. it will be a while, darling, so
wade with me.
freaking genius
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