We Accept The Love We Think We Deserve

He touches me like I'm made of gold, something precious and unbelievable, a miracle of sinews and skin. He says my hips look like they've been painted, traces the lines of my legs like something holy.

And it terrified me, this reverence. Who can stand up to such inspection? To have someone treat each of your body parts like small treasures, perfect pieces of a whole? I felt sure he was only missing the fine details, that I had somehow managed to hide the flaws, if only in a temporary way. I shook off his compliments in a certainty that he would soon see differently.

It took me all this time to recognize that I was the blinded one, that the imperfections I associated with a bathroom mirror or a bathing suit were not faults to him, but things to fall in love with.

It took me all this time to recognize it. It will take me longer still to believe it.
The world is full of things that cry, again and again, you are beautiful. 
When did we stop listening? 

 

Seasickness

I can feel it, rising from the concrete confines
of this landlocked cityscape
A dull ache like homesickness, not tied to structures
but to the open expanse of depth
Seasickness, it might be called

My heart craves the ocean
My body thirsts for saltwater
the stinging roll of it a strength beyond intention

There is a reason, you know
why we carry salt through our veins
why our tears run saline rivers.
We cannot hold ourselves back
from the shining, secret water
it pulls us, it seeps from our very pores.

I am just one more seasick lover
offering worthless poems to the unmoved Pacific
Recognizing, at last, the siren song for it's truth:
Never give your heart to the sea
For she will hold it forever and you will never be whole

Too late.