The waves each time beckon me to come a little further out to sea. No one envelops me quite like her.
Not the embrace of any lover or the familiar warmth of my mother.
I long for the darkness of blue shadow to vanquish me under a full but hidden moonlight.
Great emotion, and intensity I must keep hidden throughout the day. There is a great ache that does not cease but grows deeper with each passing hour.
You think that one day I might escape.
This prison of mirage and isolation. I gaze into the eyes of another and see my own face glistening back. Each time, I wish to reach and touch my own soul in everyone I see. I see the faceless beauty drawing me out, guiding me out to sea.
Alone and gently, I crawl naked along the dark sands. No perimeter between her and I, amidst the fog, along the shore she swallows me whole. Passionately. Tenderly. She allows me to float this time when she could just as easily drown.
This winter, I may fall to my knees and weep in the presence of my master. And beg, for the first time, without mask or play. Without tears of self-pity or anger. Beg to deepen my capacity, to endure the salty tears and drunken wine-stained heart.
That I may kneel and grieve before him. And with the salt of the ocean and wet sands consuming all perimeters of flesh, I shall make way for grace to soothe this fever and breastfeed the earth my hunger.