Sometimes I lay in my bath and if i move my hand close enough
i can feel the movement of the water cross over my body
as my hand passes by.
I feel how the waters particles trace my body, climbing over my mountains and into my valleys.
How the water is soft on my skin
like clouds in the atmosphere.
It reminds me of her,
the girl made of water.
It reminds me of how:
the first time she grabbed my hand her fingerprints crashed against mine and merged with them like waves on a beach,
merging with the flakes of sand.
It reminds me of how:
i first looked into her eyes and i felt my body become wet,
swimming in her deep pool of dark brown,
It reminds me of how:
our lips first touched
feeling my breathe exchange with hers,
i began to drown in waters of a
profound being,
It reminds me of when:
i touch her waist and i feel the curves
the water,
the tranquility
which is brought unto me as i feel the combers of her hips,
She is my water which i thirst for
she is my water which hydrates me
she is my water which is serene
she is my water which my body is synonymous for.
She is, my water.
