VOL III. The ocean is on fire
Outer Banks S3 / this aloneness turns space and time golden.
This is who we were, before bones, before dirt, before even light. This untamable expanse. This blue mirror-of-god. This heaving, churning proof that we have always been deep, restless souls.
An artist's dream. A traveler's wings. Liquid hourglass broke open. Pity of all poetry. Kin of the stars. Place where we go to remember. Place where we go to forget.
We lick saltwater stains from our hands, and yes, they taste like all the shipwreck songs of our forefathers, but also like every sorrow we used to be afraid of devouring until we understood that this is a place of rebirth too.
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