He is a beautiful train wreck,
so picturesque
I stop in my tracks.

He’s the vast sea
and all the creatures within.
Washing blessings upon shores
and blessings upon me.

He is poetry.
And I wish I’d been there
when God made his rhymes
before the beginning of time.

He is she,
and she is me.

I dare you to love
abundantly,
unceasingly,
eternally.

Not “she” or “he” or “they” or “we”
but first,
before anyone else,
love “me”.

For you are the wreck
and the sea
and the poetry.
You are all of that
and so much more.
You just need to open your eyes and see.

So say it softly,
whisper it to your ears only.

“I love ‘me’.”

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