Everything was softened on the shore,
the water caressed her body gently the way their hands once did.
Next time I'll roll over and continue to dream instead.
My story is forever; only mine.
There is no metaphorical remedy.
Turning in silence, staring at the night.
I hold my breath, I bite my tongue, I stand strong instead of run.
I poise my axis, my shaking legs wide.
I birthed these seas.
The Moon, the Sun, and Me.