In the morning,
the ocean was gone.
the ocean was gone.
I walk on the mud, the rocks,
waiting for the tide to come
to fill up the cove once again.
If I rest on the muddy bed,
will I wake again
at once floating,
at once drenched
at once floating,
at once drenched
Will I ever see it fill and wane,
or is everything just
here
gone
here
gone
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