The following passages are dedicated to Leopold, to the vernacular, to certain evil women (you know who you are), to certain wonderful people(they know who they are), to soft afternoons and quiet Sunday evenings, to Fall and seeing your breath for the first time since Spring, and to Isabelle Ya Feng ... a soul slipped by like two ships passing in the still, moonlit sea. -- Abraham Ahmed, the Surfing Beatnik
If I could do it all Again...
The grins and bears through allies and companions The fingers intertwined behind sun-burnt neck The tired moments, late and though-full The weathered familiarity The ceiling texture The persistence The forlorn
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