her skin always smelled of nectarines, and eyes the color of wet sand. lips tasted of the mediterraean sea, deep, cool, and never-ending. walking across the bridge barefoot, the urgent wind carries her further. sounds of traffic lull her to the edge. the first raindrop falls in san fransisco, but she's already beneath the waves.
they say they found a broken sea shell in her pocket.
looks like they both returned home.
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