It was under the repetitious
sunsets of cape cod
that I learned
to not mail postcards
to boys back home
because you'll be sitting
on a large rock
with the tide again greeting
your toes
and you're again
seeing blurred pinks and oranges
you realize that he
again sees ink
where you're telling him how
much you miss him
and at this point the sun
already set
on all of those moments.
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