wild of heart.
And,
if you’re just seaweed come to waste my time, and
if you’re a current and I’m but a grain of sand,
pulled under by your rip,
that’s okay.
Or it would be.
Because this love is comfortable and homely
but maybe I’m looking for someone to
shake the very earth I walk on.
There’s something about the wind and the sand and the sea that makes me believe I could catch on fire, and
it’s not scary, and
it wouldn’t hurt.
It’s calming
like,
the pull of your tide, or
the crash of your waves.
And while these white caps might only last a few seconds
they’re where I want to live.
Wild of hair.
Wild of heart.
The roar and the roll of the ocean.