We were waves.
We weren’t the ocean—
vast and all-knowing,
capable of swallowing
rivers whole.
We loved like waves,
crashing into each other,
on the surface disappearing but underneath,
still tumbling and desperately
seeking to merge.
We were waves as individual as fingerprints
Me surging to discover
You content to stay small
But we were both waves that wanted
the other to know where we came from,
which boats had broken us into being with their journeys,
generations ago.
My love, we were waves that the Earth wanted to meet,
for a million energetic movements had fated us to intertwine.
When at last we crashed into the shore,
I prayed —I still pray— to the moon’s pull,
to bring us home.