I have always been terrified of how deep the ocean can be; a depth that seems to carry a vast knowledge that my vulnerable mind is incapable of holding.

Its stark blue color renders a coldness that even my burning passion can't possibly warm.

And yet, you… you are the deepest trench I would stare at, in a state of fear and fascination— expansive, unexplored, intimidating, but deep within stirs a bioluminescence that no other vision can witness.

I may say so, because of the way you are: Your wholeness is the ocean's body, and in its expanse I see my own shadow, unfinished, like a portrait in the making.

You show me things my impaired sight cannot yet perceive— things that your eyes, as shallow to some, and even to me at first, can discern.

And only when I truly look will I see the depths that reflect my own:

Aspiring yet anchored, nurturing beneath calm, generous with quiet light, eloquently kind, and longing…

for luminosity you embody so effortlessly.

The laugh you share only with the people you deem worthy— the same laugh the world responds with stunned glares and silence— is the sound of waves crashing softly toward the shore.

You are the echo that reverberates when I scream my raw truths out into the horizon; always returning transformed, insultingly more refined, more seamlessly graceful than mine.

— A, 17th of December 2025