Let me be wind. in The First Life

Far from home.
Acceptance is easier here.
The tides have been heavy.
Waves crashing and rolling and white.
I jump in headlong.
The saltwater rushes in my nose, out my mouth.
I choke, coughing up a mouthful of tears.
My body drifts back and forth.
Sucked in after the wake,
Pushed out with the crash of the wave.
I could lie in this forever.
Listen to the rush of water over earth
Wind over water
Sand against rock.

My hands have been moving so effortlessly.
I wish he could see.
Every piece has his name all over it
Has my soul within it.
I hate it.
I need it.
It feels more real than anything I’ve felt in so long.
Seems so wrong and it turns me inside out.
All these nerves exposed and salted.

A friend told me I was fire and she was earth.
Am I ashamed of That?
I am unsure.
I’m passionate, and unrelenting and alluring and destructive.
I could see why one would search for something more passive.
Something that flows with whatever.
Something that does not kick up ash or eat up parchment with his words glued to them.
Maybe fire needs earth.
Fire meeting fire burns bright and takes everything with it.
Maybe I can learn to be wind, kick up flames when they’re low. Cool them when they burn too hot.

Even then. I don’t think it would matter.