Jun 2017
Breathe into me your stories.
Let your words wash over me:
Cooling my skin like the touch of the tide.
Let me float on your happiness and get dragged out to sea in the undertow of your grief.
You may not want to weigh me down, but I always resurface.
It's the pull of the tide which gives me life.
It's the push of the waves that brings me back to you better than I was before.
I lay by the ocean.
I live as you breathe.
Written by
MoonChild  Washington
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