fresh like a tidal wave,

by Rachel Lynch in

steady moving, sharp wrist bones, night-time eclectic woods. undercover hideaway, drowning in stretches. The lover must chase and pursue the beloved, like the Hound of Heaven; down the labyrine ways. Truth does not change like underwater or traffic lights, i still want to drown whenever you go.

Maybe I have sinned, I know now to overcome myself. To allow the light of my soul to illuminate and circle rivers. Change hatred into unconditional love and intolerance into compassion.

a long time ago, the water and rest were precious and sacred.