Change

My cold feet hit the swelling waves, dividing the salty water between my toes. I can feel the warm air of the caost surrounding me. I sit on the rough face of a boulder, sticking its grey head out of the water in a way that made it seem curious, as if wondering what could be outside its own aquatic lair. As I sit on the stone I caress the oceans surface, I feel how smooth and warm it feels. I stroke the ocean, envisioning it as my friend and lover. As my fingers move softly, the motion causes the smooth perfect face to ripple into smooth circles, slowly gliding away atop the crests of waves. Why can the world I come from not be like my world with my lover, the sea? Why can it not only change when I move, reacting to my motion in perfect cadence? As I ponder these thoghts, while stroking my lover, I see a man start to breach the gap between my little world and his, the one from which I come. He has come to collect me like a thief in the night, to kidnap me underneath the crescent moonm back to where my dreams cannot last and where my love cannot dwell. Back to another world, where change will occur without my caressing touch. I am being stolen stolen back into a dark world, that cares not for me. Rather it is a world that feeds itself off others, a fire that is constantly stoked. As the man draws nearer to me, I shed a single salty tear into the ocean. I at least feel gladdened by this one small sight, that this token of my agony may be drawn up by my lover, creating a ripple showing for probably the last time how I was able to create my own change.





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