puellarina's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- agates Agates, washed up on the beach. Worn and warm and tangerine with bone colored stripes. Not white. Bone colored. Like teeth. A soft buttery white. I hold them in my mouth, under my tongue until I’m ready to look at my collection. One by one in the slanting rays of the sun going down. The earth rolling onto her other side. Sighing with the tide. 11:10 p.m. - 2004-09-23 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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