bring sunscreen
and flip flops
a new toothbrush
your old soul
and paperbacks
full of pages who don’t mind the damp
sea air and sand between sentences,
loose idle words, whole paragraphs willing
to drift at low tide unattached
broken free,
bindings open to the sun
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Puff Of Smoke Poems 
Ah, my idea of heaven! Thanks Paula😘
Me too! Hey–lunch when I get back. Okay?