Where The Heart Is

 

 

I see my face and that ruddiness to the cheeks. I like the picture it’s a good one I think then I remember the carving from a coconut no less, the fisherman after years of sailing, fishing, bringing in the catch, features sculpted from wind and sun, the ruddiness to the face, but I am so far from the sea, how can this be my face, but I love the sea and it shows, and the carving from a coconut born on an island surrounded by water, a dot on the ocean so significant. I feel it, hear it, smell the salt air. Some wear their heart on their sleeve but mine’s on my face, always there with me, and it glows.

 

 

 

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