If you're going with the tide, don't look back. Wisps of air will kiss your cheeks. Tiny hands will wash your hair clean. When you're out at sea, and the erratic waves are closing your eyes, let the wind hold your head. Those clashing blues will lull you to sleep. When you reach land dig your hands in the sand. Let my mind grind down great stone after stone. Truth is I'm **** afraid. 18 months of you, after 16 years of me. I don't ever want you to take with the tide, leaving me to be the breeze.