Mare Nostrum

Now all is laid bare, even as
Sand is washed away by the waves
Matching a thousand siren songs.
As we circle the shallow beach,
Spelling phrases that do not meet,
My small feet still step over
This treasure. But how can I hide
Trivial hellos on paper slips,
Or smiles captured in sepia tones—
The many things I have buried
Under one summer’s golden screen?

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