The Sea
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He looked at her the way someone looks at the shores of a land they long to return to.
He looked at her the way someone looks up at the sky just as it stops raining.
He looked at her the way someone looks at art they do not quite understand.
He looked at her the way someone looks at the fireworks that pierce though the night sky on the first of January.
He looked at her the way someone takes one last look at the platform of their hometown station as the train pulls away.
He looked at her the way someone reads the last line of a novel they never wanted to end over and over.
He looked at her the way the moon looks at the stars.
He looked at her, and she was everything he had ever loved, everything he loves, and everything he would ever love.
S.P