By Amanda Donohue

It was taboo.
It was unheard of
to touch her.
I was worried if I did
She would feel
how much,
I loved her.
She would feel the hope in my fingertips
As I'd tuck the loose strand she missed
Behind her left ear as we sipped our coffee that rainy Wednesday.
I was worried if she did
She would feel the ocean surging through my palm,
Trying to stir the calm
of her heart
when she looks at me.
Because when I look at her
the calm
is the last thing I see.
She is the tides and the waves.
I am the shore and the mountains.
She bounces and splashes against my earth,
And under her, I quake.
She is a force to never be
Taken for granted.
I am the sturdiness
That she swallows like Atlantis,
A great city,
But not great enough.
She keeps pulling me in,
And shoving me back out.
But like the sand,
With every touch of her hand,
She keeps a part of me with her.

Find out more about our managing editor, Amanda Donohue, here