Ruthless Abandon

The blue of the sky meets the blue of the sea

But neither are blue, as blue they can be


The sun, as it sets; its orange is mild,

The gold reflection, smeared and defiled


In this vast, windy space,

There’s form, there’s grace


The flaunty flick, the taunting twinkle,

In the blackest of the black, just a wrinkle


The devil-may-care demeanor

And a trace of a dimple


Glaring from this image, is ruthless abandon

Youth, vivacity and aimless passion



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