the waves are receding, now.
my breath comes, as in synchrony, slow and methodic, and the air brings salt and a scent of
closure.
the storm is gone, now.
my eyes adjust to this new horizon, now.
the clouds roll away, gradually, slow and surely, and the clear blue inches towards me
with ease.
the storm is gone, now.
I stand on my own two feet, now.
my thoughts, brittle and frail, now coalesce into a thin plate, like the wet sand packed under me,
steady.
the storm is gone, now.
the storm is gone, now.
the storm is gone, now.
though my heart sinks, ever so slightly, at the thought of that which the water took, now the sun shines down with a newfound sense of
resolution.
the storm is gone, now.
though with it, all I ever knew, now spins and dives faster and faster, the breeze hits my back with a gentleness I thought to be exclusive to
your arms.
but the storm is gone, now.
the waves are receding, now.
they loll at my feet, caressing the bed of salt and seashells, crystal and cold, and the scars deep in the sand begin to wash over, never truly gone, but softened, still.
the storm is gone, now,
the sea seems to lullaby.
it'll be fine.
you're safe.
the wind has resigned.
the waves have calmed.
there is nothing to be afraid of.
the storm is gone, now.
