Wind break beach.

Playing music to remind themselves 

Of Parisian tokens exchanged 

to journey on

Through a Changing city’s name

Finding existence in songs.
Wind break beach where I often waited

As Four seasons plays and I wonder if you hear 

The same composition at this time 

and think of me as I think of you.
Eighty six became eighty seven as we

Wait for a whipped ninety nine 

and a breath sigh Spring tide radio drive 

to see where a dawn fort sailed past 

The channel on a Sunday night.
Whilst girls swim out past tidal marks 

To have a first kiss with a clam covered bouy

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