you used to be an ocean,
with deep entrapping billows of sweet syrupy air
Yes, you used to be an ocean.

I can recall days I spent
drunk on the wave of your hand
intoxicated by the ebb and flow of your tide.
Days when my tongue tasted the bite of brine
and begged for more.

To be pulled back to your current.
You used to be an ocean
and I used to be afraid.

So afraid of losing you that I would have gone out
into the distant offing
and Drowned.

Drowned on the constant flux of you.

You used to be an ocean.