Thursday, 16 June 2016


(for Kate)

In the pocket beneath my shoulder
Is a rib we share.
You brushed grey sand
And silent glassy shoals
Surged invisible in the cold
Along white beacon roadways.
Now a high-tide coral starfish
Nilotic red
Is pinned here as a shallow rockpool brooch.
Tendril fingers of coral crust reach,
From the splintered mirror chest
And we are the crawling myriad legs of the seabed.

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