Her lips seasoned by the salty air
Her skin baptized by the soft water
She breaths in the southern heat
The landscape of the bayou animates her
A ghost whispers in her ear
“Time to go”
The river’s water carries her toward the shore 
To a place where the Jazz calls her name
It can’t be avoided
It’s long overdue
A place to forget everything inside
A chance to focus on the moment

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