By Aanshikha Lohia
I am like the ocean—
in love with the fish and sharks,
hiding behind the corals,
playing hide and seek with the mermen.
You are like the sky—
in love with the birds,
hiding behind the clouds,
and away from the sun
'cause you're afraid of getting burnt.
The ocean and sky are all too similar,
but they can never be together—
just like two similar sides of a magnet
that repel each other.
Black and white are the perfect contrast,
just like at night
when the dark sky lets the stars shine.
The ocean and the sky—
they aren't all that similar now.
The glowing corals show off their light
when the night is still dark,
and the sky and the ocean meet.
Different in colour, shape, and form this time—
like two opposite sides of a magnet
that can’t stay without the other.
Yet the ocean and the sky can’t be together.
They are separated,
but not forever.
They know they’ll meet again—
because every night they do.
They have come to terms with the fact
that they can’t be together forever,
but that doesn’t stop them from meeting every day.
Like two forlorn lovers they separate soon,
but as soon as they meet again,
the elated clouds dance
to the symphony of the ocean waves—
until the piercing eyes of the sun push them away,
the two lovers to two different sides of the world.
Just like the ocean and the sky,
you and I are—
too similar to be with each other,
and too different to stay together.