In your arms, lies an ocean.

An ocean filled with life,

ready to spread across the world,

and fulfill the prophecies of evolution.

There I find myself, contented.

Like an early bird seeking the sunrise.

The time that you weave,

through your late arrivals,

creating a space for perpetual longing,

for a love stricken lonely heart.

There I see myself, waiting.

Like a scorched land for the monsoon.

Would it be fair to beg you,

argue and plead with you,

building majestic castles in the air,

together on a bright February morning.

There I discover myself, yearning.

Like a failed poet, desperate for inspiration.

The inevitable departures loom,

in the sordid corners of time,

waiting like apex predators,

to kill anything that  chooses to live,

There I unearth myself, vulnerable.

Like a spring blossom on a winter morning.