fists pound on my door,
rough like reef
but I open it anyways and there you are
with the ocean trapped in your eyes
"can I crash here for the night,"
like you're a wave and
I'm the shore
and I have you to thank for my sand and seashells,
but you're wrong.
You're the waves and
I'm the moon,
you have me to thank
for your gentle push
and the moon owes no part of its existence
to ocean waves.