A breach erupts on the constantly shifting, cerulean surface
as a difference in temperature enfolds supple skin.
Already the notion of insincere signatures and infinite pages
seem a world too far from here.
Colossal silhouettes materialize from all angles, speaking,
singing; A sound that rumbles through you,
reverberating throughout you, echoing.
A melody we may only wish to comprehend, a tune
that reaches beyond the things that will not wait for us
above the cerulean surface.
She was mine and I was hers.
In my youth, she taught me and she never left me in the otherwise still solitude.
In her youth, I adventured beyond borders with her that I never could have crossed alone.
We scavenged the fields. We skimmed the pond. We sat in the ruins. Together.
In my adolescence we walked side by side, taking in the sounds of the untainted Earth.
In her adolescence, she brought me tiny gifts of stolen life, covered in feathers.
In the end, we shared a long and silent understanding of each other.
We understood the time. The distances. The differences.
In the end, she became the Earth that we used to walk on with one another.