There is a sleeping giant in my bed. Kind and calmer than any current in my head.
His eyes reflect the sea when they look at me. Green and wild, crazed and free.
A small mountain breathes deeply like he is the shore. Keeps me tangled in his boughs. Each time we stray we always come back for more.
I’m sure he’s the sands the moon keeps pulling me to. I’m sure I’m the waves who crash into you.
I’m sure this sleeping giant in my bed is the curse and the cure for the hurricanes raging inside my head.