The sea is a man who takes without asking
bruising you endlessly, soft as undertow
His touch a quiet violence
Yet still people come, drawn to the light
the shimmer of morning sun on water
The glint of shells and sea glass bright
Seeing only the beauty, the grace
not what lurks beneath the surface
The sea knows how to hit
To drag you back and carve his name deep
A quiet ache left in the wake of water
Salt water slips into the cracks
Spreads like fingers on skin
Darkening every place it touches
he takes what he wants and leaves what he likes
her pain eroding into the shore
and while the tide still hurts
and the salt still bites
she can do nothing but
whisper defiance
into the night