Do your lips taste like sea salt, or should I take you out and find out?
Are you a moon jelly? Because your glow pulls on my heart like gravity.
If kindness were plankton, you'd feed the whole ocean.
You're the only exhibit that makes me forget my tour group.
I'd trade my oxygen tank for just one more second with you.
Is your love like coral growth? Because I want to build something timeless.
If my life were a tide chart, you'd be high every day.
You must be an endangered species—I'm ready to be your conservation plan.
Do you feel that ripple? Must be my heart causing waves.
Even the octopus would swap its den to impress you.
Are you a kelp forest? Because I'm happily tangled in you.
If I were a seastar, I'd give you all five arms for a hug.
You make my pulse go faster than a tropical feeding frenzy.
Is your smile a lighthouse? Because I'm steering straight for it.
You must be the curator—because you've organized my feelings perfectly.
If we were at night, you'd be my bioluminescent moon.
Your voice is like surf—constant, calming, and slightly addictive.
Do you have a tank pass? Because you just swam into my exclusive heart zone.
I'd write your name on a sand dollar if it weren't already etched in my mind.
Are you the aquarium lights? Because you brighten every moment.
My heart does flips for you, and the fish are taking notes.
Call me a diver—I'll dive into any season to be near you.
If love were an anemone, I'd let you hold my tiny clownfish heart.
You must be a sand dollar—rare, round, and worth keeping forever.
If I were a coral polyp, I'd multiply just to be closer to you.
Even the stingrays are jealous of your smooth moves.
If you were kelp, I'd learn to sail every current to be by your side.
You keep popping into my head like bubbles rising from a hidden vent.
Are you the aquarium director? Because you just directed my heart to you.
I'd let the moon jelly float me if it meant staying near you.
