your heart and the sea

v. endless summer

the next time you stand at the edge of the world
warm water lapping at your toes,
your sun-soaked back turned
on the ancient haint green houses,
i want you to think of me.

i want you to think of me,
and i want you to look out at the gentle waves
inching closer to the horizon with each breath of the earth.

endless, isn't it? doesn't it seem that way?
an endless slate of calm, crystal-clear blue.

now i want you to cup your hands around the salty water
and i want you to hold it close to your heart,
so close you can feel your blood gravitating towards the ocean you hold in the palms of your hands

like magnets, opposites attract:
your heart and the sea

(but who really defines the word opposite?
blood and water,
you and me?)

and as you hold it there,
do you feel the water beginning to drip out of you fingers,
beginning to role down your chest,
melting like a cherry popsicle?

all this endless ocean around you,
but you can't hold onto the sea forever;
all this endless ocean around you,
but the sea doesn't go on forever.