Isn't it true that
the sea doesn't have
a colour of her own...
every shade you see
is merely an image of the sky.
What a way to woo her beau.
But ever noticed the soil
beneath her?
Having a colour of his own,
weighing her throughout,
letting her be,
a home to her life,
so much in love with her,
yet never an attempt to woo her...
A silent love, an unsung lover.
There are spaces in their
togetherness,
much like how love should be..
giving all his heart to it,
yet not to her keeping.
What do I call this nobility?
A soil-ent love?
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