In every moment he spends near me,
My heart is the sea.
A torrent of waves crashing violently, foamy and dark, but the sky above is clear as far as the eye can see.
The sea is vengeful but benign, the creature within that is me is gazing from below the surface, watching the clear sky he creates.
But the turbulent waters push me back and forth,
On and off the brink of my moral underwater cliff.
Nothing can calm me or save me from his answer to the question pausing in my lips,
So the sea stays within,
The words floating around me,
Firm as I dissolve.
YOU ARE READING
Moving the Mountains
PoetryPoetry used to bring down countries and inspire artists and break and win over hearts. This poetry is meant for the same fate, if only one truly decides to read it.
