Sunday, June 11, 2017
Maybe it’s because you were rather intimidating that first time you crawled in bed with me.
Maybe it’s the tattoos.
Maybe it’s your God, who demands such rigorous worship but I’m flattered that he bound you to me across the oceans.
(I still don’t think I’ll ever understand all the fasting)
Maybe it’s because you left home as well. You could have been a prince, a king, but you’d spent too much time upon the sea. We can never go back.
Maybe because the sea changed you as well.
Maybe it’s because you listen.
Maybe it’s your harpoon.
Maybe because in the morning, you’re still here under the comforter, holding me.