Fathoms

She is old worn-out denim draped sensibly over sequins and lace.

She is moonshine sipped from fine china and the sun-soaked drops of a glacier.

She is earth and wind and sea sewn indestructible with holy fire.

She is a border-less harbor seeking those meant to be hers.

She is joy and sorrow and a thousand fathoms deep.

cswhitlow

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