The sea is shorter than you. She never comes close, only ever holds your hand. She steals glances at in class and lets you join her and her friends at lunch, but that's it. Her laugh is high and soft. She has piercings in only the most conventional places, and no tattoos. She draws flowers on the backs of her hands. Her nails are always painted light blue. Her hair falls in soft waves and stops just above her shoulders. She has thing wrists, thin legs, a thin face. She's skinny and she loves it. She thinks it makes her pretty. Her freckles make her pretty. The way her nose wrinkles when she sees something she doesn't like makes her pretty. The way her toes curl on sand makes her pretty. You'll have to leave her one day and you know it.
The ocean. The ocean is taller. Her hair is thick and long and tumbles over her shoulder and bounces when she laughs. Her voice is thick and slow and so deep you feel it in your lungs. Her laugh rumbles like a storm. Her arms are thick and almost always slung across your shoulder or cradling your waist. She has a tattoo on the small of her back of a blue whale and one on her ankle of a fish skeleton. Her thighs are lined with stretch marks and she wears shorts every day. She wears silver jewellery and only her bellybutton is pierced. She envelops you, kisses you breathless and traces starfish on your face. She holds you in the darkening evening, and drives you to the beach at midnight, and dives deeper into freezing waters than anyone you've ever seen. She's more than pretty. She's beautiful. And you're scared you won't be able to leave her. You don't want to.
YOU ARE READING
writing doodles
Randomthings i come up with in the dead of night, or listening to songs. most are unfinished. sorry about that.
