The older I get,
the more I realise
just how like the sea I am.
It was always blue to me,
that liquid expanse of horizon.
Melancholic with longing.
A churning, churlish mass of feeling,
everything happening beneath the surface,
much like my own insides.
A soul at turns calm or chaotic.
But as quickly as it is stirred,
bellowing forth with a tempest of emotion,
it is released and gentles itself.
that ebb and flow as response,
some inner metronome
that keeps a steady beat
like my heart.
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Photograph taken from White Noten, unsourced