Ocean

Meet me where the fog meets the sea.

Photo taken by author

Your spill
Smells of
Salty brine 
And oysters.

I could marinate an olive
In the mist of your breath.

Your curves,
Passionate,
Roaring
Forward,
Coming
Close.

Then retreating,
Recoiling,
Going back for more steam,
More crash.

Crash into me.

You’re that wave
Type of attachment style
Aren’t you?
Making me want to
Follow you
Reach for you...

And then,
You’re on me.
Crashing.
Pulling me under.
Taking me with you.

I mustn’t fight it.
I want it.
I have to let it,
Let you,
Take me
Under, 
In your undertow.

Cuz I know,
You’ll spit me back out
When your done-
Marinating on my moisture
On my taste
On my seal like softness.

You 
Want me
Under you, 
And on top of you.
You vicious switch.
You, 
Monster
Of divine certainty.

You,
God of the Moon,
Goddess of the tide,
I want to ride you 
Through you
On you 
Into you.

Ocean,
Take me
Under.
With 
you. 

---

I just recently met this foggy northern California ocean. What a fanta-sea ;). Have you met her? She was a particular breed of ocean... Inspirational in her form. Do you think the type of thoughts I do when you’re at the ocean? Let me know in the comments! If not, maybe you will now! ;) Stay wet out there!

Xoxo,

💜 Juniper