Driftwood thoughts glitter on the surface
as ephemeral whispers echo across the mandala
trails of the silvered moon
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A body afloat in solitude
Questions guided by constellations
Not stars, but ancient searchlights
probing the darkness of dreams unanswered
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The tides write; erase; rewrite
a palimpsest of ideas washed ashore
every wave a new perspective
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Listen. Can you hear the sighs of star maps
tracing the paths of forgotten echoes?
Breathe them in, one by one
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