Tide

The moon so bright, your smile.

The lowly tide crashing against the jagged rocks.

Cutting.

Bruising.

Thrown back and forth,

Your puppet,

My strings.

Struggling to pull my body out

And keep my head above the waves.

The sandbed triturates my soft skin

And whispers your name in my ear.

The waves hold me close

And kiss my skin

With more love than you have ever given me.

Still I reel,

Peek up,

And admire your beauty.

But my heart harbours love that you are not deserving of.

I am not yours and I never was.

Rising

Falling

Rising

Falling.