Tag Archives: sea

Tan

Inspired by a woman I clocked outside the bread shop a few weeks ago….one of those thin women with snappy ankles who wear converse and skinny skinny black ankle grazing jeans and a parka and manage to ooze sex.

Envy really.

 

Tan

 

She’s got an old neck though.

Skin pulled across muscle and ligament up to her thin downy jaw

like the tension cables on a bridge.

And beneath?

A body dipped in tan.

An expensive sun for that one

not a cheap last minute costa sun

but a far off five star sun.

A tan that cooled itself in near clear,

shallow, glittered water,

no swell to knock it off balance

to leave seaweed in its hair

to leave it gasping, winded,

topless and unwitting full frontal to the larded gawpers on the beach.

She’s waiting for him to buy bread

holding the dog of perfect black

one foot pointed,

eyes still behind dark lenses.

I drink my coffee,

my skin the colour of froth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Sea Urchin, Kenya

Sea Urchin

 

I got up in the night,

foot pad on cold tile

an edge broken and crumbled, sharp,

and stood at the window

watching the near light turn blue,

watching the sea gap before sky

hardening from indigo

to verdigris,

its white reef ridge

a chalk line marking the end of sea,

watching limp frilled palm leaves shiver

over water,

breathing with the quiet dry rasp of tide on sand,

my foot still sore where the jet smooth needle

pierced,

where it slipped through skin into flesh,

skewered and stayed

hard black

until Hero, the boy from the village,

peed a hot stream of acid yellow

which pooled on the sand

and I laughed

at its ordinariness.

 

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