One whole September I was never without him So much so I frequently turned my head to look around for fear there was a shadow following me Waves lapping on the island schools of fish in the water we gradually …

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The Siren is a beast, usually blonde That chooses a corner for herself in a much-frequented sea And spreads herself upon a great rock On the lookout for hardy sailors With intentions that are beyond nautical. The siren yells like …

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