as much as i want to, i can’t be the sea for you, darling

i can’t — my tongue is far too sharp to feel like ocean waves drifting slowly into yours

i can’t — my legs can only go on for so many miles before stopping themselves, shaking, weak, unprepared; i have never known the infinity of the horizon nor have touched the sunset with my bare hands

i can’t — for the sea is far too deep, too unknown, and holds too much pressure underneath its pretty mask. if i shared my secrets with you, would you be scared of the dark?

i stand in the sand, waving from a safe distance. every time the gentle summer breeze caresses my face, i die a little more here on this beach

bury me not in roses but in seaweeds, rest in my grave not candles but shells

for there is also beauty where the feet can still touch the ground.