Tidal Waves

I am afraid of everything I can’t touch,

like the ocean. The way it dissipates and pulls you in

unsure if it wants to stay or leave or

swallow you whole

You say you sometimes dream of Tsunamis

and I write about tidal waves sucking me in

as we sit on your couch with a storm brewing

above us

I am afraid of touching you,

of creating a safe space and making someone else

the landlord

Maybe in another world,

I created a language where we can unfold

in front of each other

Maybe in another language,

I said I loved you and knew what it meant

This is not a love poem

because I only know how to write about things

after I burn them down

This is not a love poem

because I already wrote an entire book about

old flames combusting —

of lovers turned into ashes,

turned into poetry,

turned into ghosts,

This is not a love poem

because I am guilty of romanticizing things

that don’t need to be romanticized

but the ocean spreads itself far and wide

across thousands of bodies each day

and still

comes back for me.

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