Staying Afloat

He reminds me of an ocean. Vast and unfathomable. No matter how far you swim or how deep you dive, you might still not be able to gauge it. He carries within himself all of my secrets, silently, with a spark in his eyes, a smile on his lips. He has kissed my tears, giving me pearls in their stead; caressed my wounds, albeit with the stinging salt. I’ve never seen anyone so calm, so collected, but capable of bringing such terrible storms. I’ve seen it in his eyes, the color of the sea at night, how he sees everything, how he reads me like a book, arching my spine, stroking each page gently, brushing his fingertips ever so slightly over each word. He calms me down, with just his mere presence, his rhythmic breathing, like waves rolling off the sand, slowly. I find myself drawn into him as if by some invisible force. Minutes and hours somehow lose their meaning when I’m with him, my heart squeezes itself in my chest, begging for more time and trying to make its way out, but getting stuck in my throat. My sighs make up for the words I cannot say. I look at him from afar, glad that I can watch over him at the very least. I see how the wind plays with his hair, how his mouth hangs open a little when he sleeps, and how he peeps through his sleepy eyes in the morning, before burying his face in the pillow that now smells of him. I could sit here, burying my toes in the sand, for endless days, just wishing for another encounter with the tides. For the ocean doesn’t welcome everyone; I could charge at it a hundred times, only to be thrown back to the land. I’m a star ready to fall from the sky to lose myself in him. But he’s an ocean and oceans pine for the moon.

 

Ex animo,
Dodo