About my feelings—so precise, never ceasing, like waves chasing the shoreline. The sound of water dancing is me, running, chasing you who are uncertain whether to receive me as wholly as the sand. Today’s verse is written of you and the poet— you, who refuse to ride my sea, though I have whispered I am no danger. So stop drifting away. It is like holding a cactus close, yet still, I embrace the wound. It’s fine— if it is you, then the pain is worth bearing. For I am still gathering longings for you, the weary soul’s remedy who never truly sees me.