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Santorini

Hit or miss, win or lose,
I dig the moon out of my skin,
but keep on climbing.

Blue sky has been taken over by white sky.
I stare at your legs
from the rocks of Santorini,

the ancient wheels turning in my gut
flattening everything in sight
for pleasure.

You, love, could not climb every hill,
rolled back down,
dusted yourself off,

and finally decided to give up.
It could have gone either way,
but your cute smile disappeared with the Minoans.