puellarina's Diaryland Diary

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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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