lily hills white

j'ai peur de parler de toi

sarah.

she’s a waterling; the salt of the frothy sea, the lily pads that dawn the shallow’s edge of a weathering pond.

she walks on water (quite literally!); a deity to the only thing holy in me— her.

she’s wells and wells and rivers and oceans and seas and ponds. she’s crabs and fish and turtles and sharks.

(and i’m a creature made almost entirely of water.)

drag me! drown me! i surrender. i will yield to thee, carry the golden seams of me and forge scales to be freed. in your hallowed hollows, i promise you, i’ll sing the other sirens to sleep.

in your ache, i will learn to breathe.

drag me! drown me (to your atlantis)!

she’s the messiah i seek, the sweet misgender in love i’m told i shan’t be. pinkened cheeks and warm, warm ichor. she’s pearled smiles and soft, soft sand flesh. and can you even blame me to want the bittersweet in the things i simply can’t reach?

drag me (to the bermuda)! drown me in the shape of her triangle-tight hold! i will propel the sails in misdirection to home. i will craft the sea with broken heart song. i will bare a compass in the freckled constellation of her stars. and lastly, i will land due north by the sun's folds. ahoy!

now i musn’t cry,

i’ll swim (drag me! drown me!) from the shore.