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My mother, The Mermaid Queen, wept tiny pearl tears.
For weeks, for months, she cried through the seasons.
High-tide storm-sobbing, would it last for years?
The seagulls think we live at the seaside:the tower blocks are their cliffs;they swoop for fish in the gutterbut are happy that it's last night's fried rice.
The sea lays big glass hands on the sand,spreading its fingers out as if newto the shore. It can’t quite believe in it.It wants to hold on before the glass breaks.
I saw three ships, three tall ships
Riding on the sea,
The waves quaked, and the fishes quaked,
And the wind sighed sorrowfully,
For on their decks, and in their holds,