I wash into an
open heart, mine, to find
me relaxing beside the sea
playing on the swell, I am
the crest, unwavering
in the tide, I can
surrender to the rain
I can be just as I am
I can be just as I am, still
he tells me, sweet
open heart, sweet heart
it is not enough
to make love on this island
of the fullest kind
(of the kind where we no longer exist)
where romance and fantasy
butterfly kiss, and so we blink
or blur from tender gaze
Tags: 2007, Arunachalla, india, letting go, love, Mr M, sadness, self-worth, travel, truth
