Pretty Skin

I saw a river in her stretch marks It was beautiful I knew if I travelled long enough  I'd find her delta The place where she began.  Her ocean was so wide I'd never come close to knowing her depth  Not for lack of trying though It was her waters Her waters weren't as clear as I thought they'd be I thought the ocean would know it's beauty was in it's vastness But I guess  It had been polluted by plastic bottles with messages written meant to shrink it To cut it down Because not everybody liked the feeling of waves soft enough to rock you to sleep or still you should you keep fighting her natural rhythm Ignorant people Unappreciative of both quiet and loud strength Unable to see the damage their plastic words do to beautiful and natural things  They don't deserve timid salt crystal kisses so soft they crumble down your skin Their only residue left in eyes wet from scales and stars  That look to futures of gift giving.  Her stretch marks take me on adventures and journeys That without I'd be poorer a woman for.  So I kiss her rivers and ocean Because the longer they run And the bigger it is The more I learn about her nature.