I would give EVERYTHING to hear this read out loud!
A few thoughts here:
"because i don’t mind
drifting in your sea. i can ruminate some
more on the anatomy of your sea."
- I felt like ending the second line on "sea" again broke the flow for me. It seemed too abrupt of a stop as well.
My favorite stanza and what felt like the strongest:
"as much as i love to cup your waters,
with palms brimful of you –
my fingers prune, a tangible reminder
from you, to let you go. you’ve existed
long before me and will thrive after me."
- I couldn't help but notice that the punctuation felt even more precise, the commas in the perfect place, where I could pause and have it feel natural. The humanity of this piece, in learning how to let someone go. I was reminded of the essence of love here that is more of an eternal presence. It's love that is manifested through us, but a love that will find its way to you again.
The last three lines were heartbreaking, utterly heartbreaking. The complexity of emotions in thinking, was this only a stranger that you grew to love overnight? Or shared an intimacy that can't be easily forgotten? This could be a reflection on casual lovers, or an experience with them that opened you up to love, yet knowing they may not feel the same, and may move on the next morning, though you are unable to simply see it as a momentary feeling. You want to hold on, hence the pruning fingers, but you cannot keep something that wants to be free and may not have found their home and place of safety and rest in you.
It also made me think of the love and passion and raw emotions being present in relationships, and the admiration, but not quite knowing how to express it other than these words, other than poetry that may or may not be passed on. And over time, the means to communicate become less and less clear.
Either way, the introspection on what being "strangers" means, and the honesty and romance in your words, was incredibly poignant... even the title too and metaphor of her being the sea, omnipresent.