Tied by the tide
She is delicate
like I imagine the day in late spring
when she entered the world
mewling in in her own sort of grace
that bites gently
instead of the screams
that gnaw just underneath my skin
We are the same
as much as we are opposites.
I fell clumsy into this world
where I don't even really belong
but I insist on digging my claws
into the tissues of this world
And she drifts like a ghost
with her halo
that slipped innocently
around her slender neck
She makes me want to be careful
while crashing like a wave onto her shores
But how fragile, really, is the sand
that shifts with every retreat of the sea?