The cool air feels refreshing on my face. The sky on the water transforms before my eyes, giving colors to the sunset. Nothing else seemed more perfect to me. I swear there are pinks that I’ve never seen before, and I want them painted on my memory. Wild blues and several kinds of purples. Then the sun swallowed up the layers of gold it gave to the world, slid into hiding, and the sky started to quietly bling stars. I start to think of each star like they are an ancestor, wondering about what life and death felt like for them. Were they scared? Do they feel me wherever they are? I wonder who I
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