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100 Words on Love, by Peter Mallon
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Briney air, burnt eyes, clear head.
Waves crashing; a pendulum that soothes.
Squeezed into skin tight, constraining suit, all to be free in the sea.
Cold as it crept through my neoprene, chilling my skin and reaching the pit of my stomach.
The first immersion, stinging, clinging, cleansing, restoring.
Eyes wide open.
Balance being sought.
Ready for the wave,
To try and ride it.
To go with it.
Rather than to push against it
To fight for air and struggle for sky when needed
Laugh and grin when I catch it
Feeling as if I can scrape the sky.
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