On warm summer nights at sundown, lilac clouds scattered in the sky, I find my way to you.

You, with your patient waves and crescent shores; you, with your hushed voice and hint of stardust; you, inhaling stillness - exhaling fresh moonlight.

Lake Michigan, I've missed you. I've missed sandy toes and lake-drenched hair. I've missed your crystalline horizon, how it fizzles into eternity under the moody sky.

Some days, you are pure magic. You carry me out of my skin. You surrender me into sparkling moments (blue on blue, infinity). Here, in the opal waters, reality melts away. I am a water lily, a dove, and sometimes, just a feather.

Other days, you are a healer, a spiritual giver of life. When I'm covered in sin, you baptize me. You leave me breathless and bare. Holy water for retribution, truth swelling to set me free.

In the amethyst of evening, when I dream alone with you, then you are my guru, my guide through the murkiness. You teach me bulbous secrets, planting seeds of wild light. Sweet lake, your wise and weaving waters open my fledgling eyes.

I've ripped my heart into your hands, shed tears into your shoulders, screamed seething rage into your open ears.

But after it all, you still hold me, the same as yesterday, and the rhythm of your waves hums gently, I think forgiving me.

So in exchange, I give to you my purest happiness. Cherry popsicles and bikinis, the fragrance of sunscreen and salt.

I send you sandcastles and stargazing, ukulele songs at dawn, and my laughter cascading like kisses across your rippling cheeks.

Most of all, I send you love, through each of my sandy footsteps. I send you love when you wash me in morning, love when you sing me to sleep.

And on warm summer nights at moonrise, as the milky way sways on your skin, my love overflows like starlight. I smile - waves crash, heart beats.