ocean hungry

Once I loved a man who was hungry as the sea:

his eyes ate up my soul in eager pieces,

the waves were in his fingers, rushing soft,

his heart lay beating in the horizon line--

I dove into him and found no bottom.

I washed my feet in his desires,

bathed in his gentle admiration,

found myself once more in his strength—

the current took me inwards, deeper,

drove me into his fears;

I swam in them and was not afraid.

On stormy nights he crashed into being,

thundering furrows of his brow

pulled out my drunken love,

drowned it in deep steel blue

as dark clouds collected overhead,

pouring heavy on my skin.

They say the sea is ever-changing,

but I found him constant,

if only in his inconsistencies—

when I plunged myself into him:

weightless, an open expanse

mysterious and fulfilling—

I drank my full; it did not burn me.

But you cannot change the sea,

it beats on endlessly, passionately--

let me be baptized under the water!

and if he was the sea, then I the sky—

my cobalt faded gently into his waves,

longing to meet in a silent embrace.

I fell fully into him;

stripped into vulnerability,

trusting of my innocence,

his warmth swelled to meet me—

his whispers were the curls of a sea-pink conch,

I still hear the beating of the ocean current

when I close my eyes.