Emily Powell is a junior English major with a focus in Creative Writing. When she’s not staring blankly at a page waiting for inspiration to strike, she’s horseback riding or drawing in any notepad she happens to find.
I know your love my dear. How it swells, crashes, and breaks A wave upon the shore, brushing gently across my skin. Sea spray and salt and the smell of home And the tide pulling me in. I know your love my dear. How it pulls at my limbs, Closer, ever closer— As you wash away the grit on my skin And pull me out to sea. I try to reach for you my dear, Sand between my fingertips, Between my teeth, Choking me, As another wave goes by I know your love my dear, How it swells, crashes and breaks. I know your love my dear, And I try.