The sea calls tenderly to me; a liquid whisper.
The equator draws me, traces my soul and
centers me with her siren voice; tempting me to her bosom.
The brisk, diminished day of Autumn
Drives me away with urgency
Lest my bones chill too soon and paralyze me.
"Hurry," she urges.
The sweet coercion futile to contest.
And so I go, trustingly,
To join the reverie at the center of the earth.
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