Amanda Del Brocco

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I am thinking about how the ocean contains every color on the spectrum of human emotion. Gold at birth, green at noon, navy in the depths of volatile night. Sometimes, it appears akin to blood. Or it will turn the crystal color of blue eyes. Right now the shadows of kites are flitting across it, and fields of sun-sky are painting azure everywhere. Black threads of distant birds drag over it like microscopic angels, barely perceivable.
Your Blue Is Not My Blue: A Missing Person Memoir
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