California

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He is more backwards than the ocean’s wash and he’s made up of more fault lines than California. He moves the ground beneath my feet and although I am shaking from the grinding of our tectonic plates against one another, he does not frighten me. Our aftershock tends to send others running, and I love it.

He tells the sun to beat down on my skin and the salt of his water to leave me dry. Nevertheless, I have decided to settle somewhere along his coast. Still, he keeps shifting.

Please stay, it’s incredibly hot and your shade keeps me cool.

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