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Thessaloniki

Who would that be with the scaled tail?
A Gorgon maybe, or a Medusa?
A precognition of a roughened wild sea,
a challenge to any nautilus wail,
or a dithering of a lonely soul's plea?

She raises her hand to grasp of the side,
your boat's that edges away, breast rail,
she woes to thee to adherent abide,
your empty soul's anxiety's lone trail,
many that tried to disclaim her - died.

It could be a mermaid that wanders
on every ship's route or path surmised
to ask of how her dear brother died
and she, her once royal pretty fingers
lifts, to ask: Is king Alexander alive?

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