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Aware by Neetu

I carve words in the sand

I know the tide will rise

and wash them away

but I write them
until my hands are gritty
and the color of sand

I speak to the waves

I know they don’t hear
but I let the words roll out
of my mouth anyway
until they sound

like the waves

I listen to the wind

even when it is still

I can hear silence in the quiet

it utters words I wouldn’t
otherwise hear—they come
from within

First published in TAT Poetry, December 2016

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