I’m still not used to consistencies. The truth. Or your safety.
I still wonder if you tell the truth and mean what you say. I still let doubt swell inside me. I don’t remember becoming this way.
I’m still learning to let you come in waves. They don’t have to batter or pillage. They don’t have to cause tides that ruin and rage.
I’ve always lived in swells amongst the drowning. I’ve always had sea water in my mouth. But your skies let me navigate those stars and don’t leave clouds of doubt. I don’t trust the clear and am waiting for the haze; too good for too long is just not the sailors way…
I’m still getting used to your broad decks and steady oars. Your honest eyes aren’t filled with sea foam lies and pirate’s whores.
You make me want to trust the sea. Trust my eye and the steady of my feet.
I am trusting you and for the time in so many traveled seas, I am letting loose and letting the ocean come to me.