The Ocean Is Burning

I see you greet each path that you pass,
Until you become a bystander, watching your life go by like you might watch a movie.
I know you dreamed, because I saw the face that smiled at you.
I know you dreamed, because in your sleep you wandered to find me; you shook me awake, and you invited me to come dance among the stars with you.
I know you dreamed, because I dreamed too.

Was it a good sign? Was it a good symbol? It’s so hard to tell.
The black and the white mix to make such beautiful patterns, oil and water like lips touching.

Still, whatever the feeling was, it remains the same.
The heavy footsteps up the hill are the same.
The dragging of my sleepy soul is the same.
The choice to start again, start again, start again; is the same.
I don’t care about the day or night anymore.
But because I have lost interest in everything, maybe I have gained interest in you.

All those finish lines that turned to dust.
All those windows made from sugar and lightning.
All those conversations that have yet to grow from seeds in the earth.
The chaos of growth. Fingertips stretching toward the warm sun.
The chaos of growth. Mornings spent digging energy out from holes in the ceiling.
The chaos of growth. I stretch my elbows back to expose my chest — my heart beating in the middle.
The chaos of growth. Circles, circles, and more circles.

By your side. This time.
In the wide ocean, we swim side by side.
The tide is invisible, but it makes us float.
Your reflection sparkles in the water, and my blood is warm and then hot.
From the steam of that heat, we will rise, ashes in the wind, bodies intertwined.

And we will burn, and burn, and tell love stories around the fire.