antarctica is blue

too often

when antarctica considers

her own existence

she things of a vast wasteland

of cold white and grey

too stubborn to consider herself lovely

too often

people overlook

the blueness of her skies

the rippling waves

and silent aqua expanse

of her ocean

antarctica has held me

as only a continent can

she saw my sorrow

and drew me into her arms

pure blue letting me let go

her tide rocks me til I can breathe

too often

people have tried to hold each other together

when all we really need

is for someone to let us

melt into the salty sea of our tears

our boarders connect

her ocean and mine

with the aesthetic of the atlantic and the indian

a stunning termoil

few can tread these waters

most get pulled under

we are a force to be reckoned with