your sea
is where i would like to lay
A soft, glimmering ivory, that’s what you are. A pearl of a human. So special and precious I carry you tucked behind my ears and held fast to my heart. I don’t know what this feeling is, but I want to tell you everything all the time, and I want to send you every reel I’ve laugh-cried to, and tell you about all the things that I love (show them to you too.) And I’d like to hear about your mundane work stories and bring you breakfast in the morning. Sit on the porch while I watch you drink tea.
I’m sending things like: I want to carve a hole in your chest and tumble into it and. Are you free later? And. Just thinking about your voice. And you. And I can’t remember ever feeling this way. But we met in the weirdest way. But at the same time was it really that weird? (Do you think I manifested you?) You know how weird I am. Having faith in the astral plane and needing interstellar intervention. Praying to a god I don’t know the name of. But I think I’ve been waiting for you my whole life, I think I’ve wanted this my whole life. What if I told you I’m counting down the days till I see you again.
When the time comes, do you want to go to the beach with me and lie somewhere on the warm shore? Feel the granules between our toes as we talk about nothing but the echoes of the watery kingdom unfurling before us, the music we adore and how the waves sound so similar to that of a beating heart. Would you like to come? To the beach with me?
Where there’s sandcastles and handprints and even in their fading, are beautiful. Things with spaces in between them will be filled, filled wholly with water. And it’ll be well worth the effort. Worth it to at least have tried and believed, again. Do you want to go? To the estuary shrouded by a tunnel of tempura paint murals with the cafe that serves little pancakes and where birds go to rest, with the pink and yellow ice cream storefront that I’ve never seen open, dichotomy of blooming coral and gloomy time-stopped winter? Apricot jam made from sunrise and my hair frizzy from the salt? Exchanging my straightener iron for the ocean? And the things that broke us- ripped out our hearts like they weren’t flesh-etched pieces of us. Turning off my phone and all the noise just to listen to your voice.
To me, it’s like melody. Soft, soft, soft and slow; I’m changing and so are the seasons too. I don’t know what’s next, nor will I know today or tomorrow but;
Here I am making my way back to you in this message I’ve stuffed into a glass bottle; chasing old things, patterns, beliefs. I’m realizing what I don’t want anymore- a life without you. I made a choice, and it entails fresh-baked bread and tangerines, matcha barely iced, drunk over the cliff. Strawberries and cream, sunsets and good things. Things that love and adore me, all of me, even the parts I keep in secret. Sticking to me like sand, on my skin in my hair, all over the passenger seat-
And I know I haven’t met all of you, but I hope you will let me. Waiting for you by the bridge of twine, holding a seashell like the palm of someone I love. I can imagine it. When the time ripens. The tidal pull, that summer air- will you go there with me? Will you choose me?
And if you leave, I’ll write so much poetry. But if you stay, I’ll find so much more.
to you, dnjstjs.