A Sea of Sorrow

I always think about your eyes

the first time we met. 

They were shining like the ocean,

cerulean clear,

a soft breeze carrying away

the clouds. 

You shivered in my presence

and when I asked why, 

you said you were afraid. 

Were you afraid of the 

quick beats of your heart, 

the way they felt in your chest? 

A new sensation breaking through

a thunderous storm of contentment. 

I was hot.

Heat burned through my veins, 

impulsive and mean,

harsh and strong, 

I needed help to heal the burns left behind.

You were cold. 

Frozen and still, 

gentle snow resting on a wooden roof

in December,

wishing on a star that rode through the indigo sky

as if it has always been yours.

To me, 

all of the stars look like you,

bursts of light in the darkness,

appearing and

disappearing 

in the same instant. 

Through the fire and the rain,

I thought we would escape the war

of smoke and frost. 

With all the tears, all the pain

I thought we would make it past

the pale blue ghosts shifting 

from place to place, 

beneath the summertime silhouette,

hidden from the sandy shore. 

I always think about your eyes

the first time we met. 

And how far we’ve come. 

And how quickly all of our time has 

gone.

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