1st stroke
See with a paddle we're making waves,
Hearing splash every time I hear your name,
Every so often you say it's going to rain.
Like, this isn't our first time so we know the ways of the ocean,
Back & forwards we've internalised the motions,
Let's not go to fast before we come to the end of the trip,
Instead let's take our time and appreciate each bit.
Trace our fingers across the map till we hit the right spot.
The clash of waves, horns of the boats , our voices trying to be not equal but greater in sound.
We can't help it now we are almost there, from full English to nonsense syllables
We have found what we were looking for , now we are lost for words.
We lay there in amazement as the waves move around us,
We feel the trail of sweat down our face and spine,
We just experienced something so overwhelming ridiculously divine.
You dip your finger in the ocean to taste the salts of the sea,
Then decide that's not enough.
Instead you stick your head in and you didn't even bluff.
You couldn't get enough of the taste on your tongue,
I tried to pull your head back out of fear we'd lose control.
That you'd be consumed by your love for reaching the gold.
Well like I said this wasn't our first time.
Each treasure hunt more convenient than the last.
We try to be more creative, new routes, the positioning of the boat.
Always feeling the same rush after the climax passes as if we decided to elope.
Together at sea, together on our own,
Giving our souls time to intertwine and our minds to evolve.
To the blind eye we are just searching for gold, till you step back and realise that we are no longer in control.
Fuelled by our urges to please and receive.
To find the right spots to achieve and succeed.
We're just two kids away away at sea.
The only way we find comfort is finding the treasure between our bodies.
Add comment
Comments