06 The Love Issue | The Span of Human Emotion · 6 of 12
I went to the oceanand called you by your name—despite myself.
The waves answered in symphony,clearing a path of heat without mercy,the kind that dulls instinct. I knew I’d find you in the current.
Over the dips of sand,into ridges where shallow breathsmeet fleeing footprints of salt.
I met you in the horizon.As the focal point of the sunturned momentarily blinding,creating erasure—of the life I arrived with,of the part of me that knew when to turn back.
The sleeping lady stretches acrossmountains and volcanic ruin.She is the hum that shakes the trees.I mistake the lull for permission.
I went to the oceanand called you by your name.
The mortals of the marinewhisked me through jagged stoneand the siren’s calling—not to anchor,but to ask what I’d surrender.
That’s the thing about depth:you’re only ever a step awayfrom no return.