It's a glimpse caught late at night in the reminiscent angle of an adjacent hallway. A glimpse, the lightest touch... that stabs a thin fissure in the dam I built so carefully to let the waters come flooding out.
Fight it.
If I could always be singing the Mingulay Boat Song, I would not fear the water.
When we stood in that scattered circle singing, swaying, I looked around and felt overwhelmed by how beautiful everyone is. I wished I could tell them, show them, how unbelievably beautiful they are. I tried to pour all of the water in my soul into my voice. I swear I felt it--a rain tapping in rhythm all around me, a wash of warmth, a feeling that I was clean. That I was whole. That I was home.
Let her go, boys
So difficult... but how whole I feel as I let go.
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