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I'm back, after a really bad and numb day, please feel free to critique

Posted to Action Poetry

When It Was All A Bit Too Much

ThereÂ’s an old man collecting glass bottle pieces
On the sea shore, and
Watching him,
I suddenly realize that IÂ’ve lived
Countless times before.
That IÂ’ve felt the
Sahara sands in my eyes when
Trading for silk, that IÂ’ve gypsy-danced to
Fall tree songs along the Mediterranean sea,
That somewhere in Van GoghÂ’s Paris is me,
Winking at a starving artist,
Selling sex;
That this very ocean has taken a thousand breaths while
I watched it with countless secret loveÂ’s in my heart.
How small I am, I think.
The manÂ’s putting the glass in bags,
And I buy one, taking a few ocean-polished bits,
Thinking to join the foaming green washing my feet.
And then he says,
Hey little girl, gonna make a
Necklace with them gems?
I look at him, and then suddenly I laugh,
Say, yes,
Yes I am,
And walk away.
How peculiar we are.