I often think of the distance between us,
what it would mean for us to meet halfway,
sail out to some unknown island in the pacific,
and dock our vessels beside one another’s.
Nothing but the sound of your laughter,
the gentle knocking of our boats,
and the clear water lapping at our ankles
as we kick up sand along the ocean floor
trying to reach out to each other.
I think, the first time you take my hand,
that the heat on my skin will match
the warm in my chest, the sun free of
clouds to hide behind, open, bright.
You see, I have loved the ocean waves.
I have bathed in the sunshine and sand
like most never have. But in loving you,
my dear, I see the sea sparkle, the sand glow,
the sunshine beam, and delight at the salty
sting of your teeth biting my lip.
I often think of the distance between us,
and how when it does cease to exist,
salt will have never been so sweet.