I like the sound that quenching sings. where sound touches in a wordless world, quenching a soul breathless. I like that soundless tactile of drying sand shifting through fingers, while a sun sets quenches the sightless horizon. Like the way a wave quenches the grains of a dry beach yet again.
Quenched sands glimmer a hand of stars between fingers pause. Quenching slow rains strobe a way, where memory was found misplaced, once upon a sleeping city listens to the oceans subtle roar. And the pearl of a midnight sky pulses from lightning, a stillness beneath.
Yet between, binds earth, the chorus of aural creatures, filling quiet undulation,
quivers a nests beneath this pearl in a midnight sky.
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