Love is like the ocean; I can run my fingers through it and see out to the horizon but I don't know it's reaction to me. Every wave of my love is different like every wave against the shore. Some who know of him and have walked through his steady push and pull think they know how the ocean feels-that every person feels it the same. What I find though is with every wave a beautiful thing washes onto the surface; one day I'd see a sand dollar broken or chipped but other days I would find a colorful shell with different expressions from being loved or a small crab trying to get to the water, and the surf meets the little one halfway.
The cool touch against my burning skin sends chills down my spine that want me craving more. so light and delicate I wonder if the water can truely pierce like ice even though it melts over time on my body. If I had my choice I would become part of the ocean-I would be the reefs underneath; beautiful and filled with life that the ocean brought. My feet sink into the dry sand only to be held together by the light ribbon of water along the replenished earth unmoving my feet no longer burn but sense a small joy from the cool pond that has created itself. I am the person who would be found lying on the burning sand in jeans and a t-shirt waiting to be cooled off by the rising and lowering tides during the day-I would be the one to stand out from the rest. He would be the one in shorts and a shirt wet from the water to cool my overly heated body off with just one touch to my forehead.
When they said I would have to give up sometime, I thought of the push and pull of the waves. Leaving and Returning-love meant to last leaves and returns as in an alike pattern but the treasure found with every different touch doesn't leave or return it stays like a lover's thoughts should. Love is like the ocean; I can run my fingers through it and see out to the horizon but i do not know it's reaction to me.