During the night the sea came to me and poured her waters into my ear as I dreamed, flooding my head with the Moon-drawn lullaby of waves and tides and tempests. Waking, I can hear no other sound now save the soft thunder of the surf on the shore, can hold onto no thoughts for they are too quickly caught up in the tumbling currents and carried far from my side. I cup my hand to my ear and listen to the seashell roar; I turn to my reflection in the window and watch the whitecaps dance behind my eyes. I lick my lips, and salt crystals tumble from my tongue.

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