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.