Because when the moon kisses the sea, everything just seems to fall into place. And she is not even talking about how the center of mass pulls the sea and the moon to each other—the way the gravity keeps the two bodies together, making them one, even in just a certain point in time. She is not taking about tides, not even how this celestial body‘s gravitational force disrupts the centrifugal force that keeps the Earth, the Sun, and the Moon in balance.

She is not talking about the way a perigee brings the moon’s orbit into a closer proximity to the planet, to the waters—to the sea—and how it makes surges all the more spectacular. She is not talking about the timing of this stronger force that leads to high tides—the way the Sea and the Moon are attracted to each other, like magnets, how these periodic rises of large bodies of water skim through the Moon’s swell, the way it falls into the Moon’s lure, without any complaints, without any qualms.

She is not talking about all of those.

Because when the moon kisses the sea, she is only talking about him.