Push

They don’t tell you what it’s like.

I don’t know. Maybe they do, but no one told me. Or I couldn’t hear them over the push and pull of the ocean. Too far out to see the storm clouds on the horizon or catch them waving from the shore. 

I like the way it felt. All of it. The sun and the shade. Loved his hands in mine. The depth of his eyes, cool like water.

He was a lullaby. It was a dream. You couldn’t tell me that he didn’t carry heaven in his soul and home in his chest. He was home, so I moved when he did just to keep out of the rain.

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