Darya; from farsi to english it translates to “Ocean”.

She rocks me in her arms like gentle early morning currents.

She holds me up and doesn’t let me drown, no matter how much I plea.

Her salinity heals my wounds as she carries me to shore.

Every morning she reflects a sunrise of golden yellows, magneta and camdmium, to remind me of the beautiful things my sadness wont let me see or appreciate.

But nothing can compare to the golden highlights and honey blonde streaks of her hair.

The sound of the waves crashing is somewhat soothing, but nothing is as calming as the sound of her voice.

Her heart holds an endless ocean of love for the people around her.

To drown in the ocean of kindness in her eyes, would be a lovely way to die.





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