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Crashing Waves

Sweet salt smell perforates my senses

The boardwalk


You were the difference that summer

Eight weeks of breathtaking bliss

Your hand in mine

Our lips intertwined


We made a promise

To each other

A commitment

It felt so right

But a commitment under the stars of a teenage summer

Hardly carries the weight of a binding agreement

Such commitments harbor puncture wounds

Fissures that lead directly to heartbreak

For one or both sides

Letters pledging undying and enduring love come rapidly

In the days following those amazing eight weeks

However, written allegiances cannot sustain

They wilt under the increasing cooler temperatures

Death comes quick to such allegiances by first snowfall

All that is left is the empty boardwalk

Author: Whipped Owl

Writer Musician Historian Sportsman Loner

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