You can’t even talk about it. The saltwater begins to sway behind your eyes and I remember that the ocean built you. I can see it in the waves that crash around me when you smile. It’s better to be a friend than nothing at all. When I need to remember the pieces of me that are buried throughout this town, I go to the old house on Patricia drive. I see my spirit in the window- she’s still home and I wish she’d let me in. The glass fogs and I wake up to a storm. You’re the falling branches and I’m the tornado. I can wreck the town with my bare hands, but I choose to be gentle. Calm as the sea that endlessly reaches through your eyes. Praying for a moment of stillness- right as your tears begin to fall. -AMT©️