A Golden Beam Within Crystal

You say, what is the sea shell waiting for in its blue ripple?
I tell you it is waiting for sphere like you
the lion hearted crab flows among.
The loving threads,
pockets of ivory converted into crystal.
I’d do it for the defender in which you pacify?
For the ribbons of cinnamon sea’s skin you’ve lighted
sailor of the depths of my curves – your magnifying
stills your loving regard as though it were heat
I salute your parenthetical sugar.

And envy your essential pride.

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