Ocean

It’s strange to hear you speak.
I seem to be frightened by your voice so close to my ears.
The smell of these concrete walls fade when the sound of your chords carried by that hair, most wondrous strands I seem to love.
Even when I’m faced down in the bottom I know you’re there still walking forward and I don’t want to miss any steps.
The ocean widens but my arms stretch into wings and I find a way to fly. Flying in the pitch dark, blinded by the yearning call that I must be there with you.