If Oceans Could Speak

There was something different about this one. A seemingly blissful attitude towards life. I mean, it was clear from the get go, the peace she maintained that seemed to manifest on its own. Her composure is that of the ocean. Serenity encumbering the earth in a blueish blanket, taking everything wild under its tutelage. 
Maybe, it is because of those blue orbs. It has an apprehension they call into existence. They are sharp, insensitive, yet they hold so much emotion. Just saying they are blue is like saying the stars are bright. Sufficient, but not quite enough to describe it. And when she is perorating, they are focused, as if their only reality is you, nothing more, nothing less.

Keeping in mind that she is the ocean, she was indifferent towards the effects the moon had on her. The gravity of its location was never realized, although she makes a big deal out of reflecting its pale-white luminescence. 

She is so naturally passionate. The kind of explosive passion that comes unannounced. Wildly irrational, but still in reigns. 

On the shore she would reach out to unfamiliar guests, pull them into her atmospheric embrace. She discussed the politics of creatures and pondered on her place between them, not knowing that she is the reason that they are zoetic.


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