Grief

I don’t want the oceans I let flow 
to simply pool around us, only to dissipate, 
evaporate, disappear into drains, 
as though it was merely a shower and not a sea 
capable of drowning me. 

I want you to keep my rivers of tears in cups, 
in chalices, and drink them every time I share them, 
so I know, I know that you share my sorrow. 

I want you to embrace me, 
as the waters crash around us 
and the winds whip our skin 
as our lungs burn and we struggle to breathe 
but we have each other, 

in the never ending expanse of sea, waiting, waiting, 
waiting for the day I no longer have oceans in me 
and I can close my mouth, wring myself dry 
and we can step on to land together.