Another tide

Freedom to do anything

you want

is chained to the fog

at six forty five in the morning

when the streets smell like

every foreign and familiar

smell. Hug me close

and cry after sixteen

years of absence.

I feel your loss

squeeze me tight

make death in your

eyes disappear

and help me breathe

in the cracks of your soul.

It looks like Paris stems from

your aura, and this city is

in my fourteen year old

gut. Revoke my love,

press my lies on

an ironing board

refresh me

spray your love

and essence on my skin.

No one waits for the flood

but me. Open my arms

to your tide.

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17 comments

  1. Eric Syrdal · August 19, 2015

    Fair winds and following Seas, Poetess. ♡

    Liked by 1 person

    • Chrissy · August 19, 2015

      You’re right, Eric. inspired by the ocean once again… x

      Liked by 1 person

      • Eric Syrdal · August 19, 2015

        I recognized Her Saltspray perfume in between those words…and the pic of the ship…been in love with those my whole life.

        Liked by 1 person

      • Chrissy · August 19, 2015

        because deep inside we all just wanna sail away

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Souldiergirl · August 22, 2015

    Wow! ❤️❤️❤️

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Chrissy · December 29, 2015

    Reblogged this on Christina Strigas.

    Like

  4. laurelwolfelives · December 30, 2015

    Oh, wow.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. athousandyearsoflearning · January 4, 2016

    love this ❤

    Liked by 1 person

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