I like palm trees

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you’d think all beaches had golden brown, bronze, blonde sand

wrong this time, you haven’t seen it all

embrace the sun’s aged, baked sand, for they’ve seen skies from dawn to dusk

bare your feet, don’t hesitate, for the stretch is clear

the surf beckons, it sizzles and swishes at your sun scorched feet

waters draw back, taunting, seemingly in a game of truth or dare

you rouse intrigued, stumbling head first into the ocean’s illogical depths

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