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Thursday, January 7, 2016

Pd.1: Skylar Carey

I remember poem:

I remember going to St.John.
The way the ocean sea salt smelled
And how the coconut milk's scent surrounded me.

I remember the pina collada oozing down my throat
like ice cubes cooling my body.

The sand's touch felt grainy in between my toes,
hot as a flaming fire.

I remember playing "ring the hook."
How the string swung down and grabbed onto the pirates hook.

Each time I recall this memory, I feel upset,
sitting in bed dreaming of going again.
It was a journey filled with thrilling adventures
I could never forget.

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