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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