Listening to the Ocean

I once loved living near the ocean, walking by it, listening to it.
Now I find myself not caring if I ever see it again, but I do
feel differently about
you.

Is it your voice, I would rather hear, your eyes, I want to drown
within, your limpid pools of blue. Am I to feel this way,
referring to what I have
revealed?

I could have kept it to myself as so many other thoughts
and feelings I have at one time or another.
All of which I long to remain
secretive.

It is my way of protecting you from the stark reality of it all. All of
which I want not for you to be aware of, All of which
may cause you irreparable
harm.

A whisper of a touch, and I am left with a subtle remembrance.
Was she to have seen me gazing into her eyes,
momentarily, as it may have
been…

But to have found myself drowning within them where only
teardrops are formed and silently wept. And I to have
captured the moment within a memory
woven onto an increment
of time…

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