Don't worry, darling
the ocean will be only a
memory, one day,

the wild waves a footnote
in the story of your
meandering life

we will meet occasionally,
drinking espressos in
the heart of London

imagining we are somewhere
(anywhere) else

but eventually, you will
forget me, and I will

not shake my limbs
into yours, worrying
about breaking the

skin. We are not
endless and forever
is now

I am myself whole,

no longer a fraction
of a second away
from fading

imagining an ocean
to stop my heart from
hammering

through my ribs,
bursting through
my chest

birthing something
unknown, unwanted
and caged

I am a timid bird but
nervous wings still
flutter, still fly

I am reaching into
the darkness,
arms outstretched,
eager, fearlessly
facing the future,

running blind

I was prey to him,
fighting against his bare
teeth, white and diamond -
like

I was less than a jewel,
less than a girl bending
under the quiver of
his sharp nailed fingers

the arch of his back
stretching out
above me

I am frozen solid,
an iced over lake
somewhere between
two mountains

I do not thaw at his
touch, I am winter -
set, swallowing salt

that rises to the top of
an ocean, a blue mass
spreading

covering the Earth,
and me, wet with
regret

shaking below his
chest, consumed
by his cigarette
stenched kiss

his thunderous hands,
holding me to
ransom

Murderer
they called me
Murderess...

to take a life
into my pale,
sculptured hands

to mix bone
and blood
into a thick
paste

to shatter the heart
of a mother, herself
reaching into the
abyss in fear of

nothingness.

I did not tremble
from top to toe

my back arched, catlike
sensing danger

where there was only
love, taken from me

beaten, burnt, corrupted
until only this shell

remained.

I take God into account,
hold him to his word,
beg him to remember
that night when I was

six

when heaven and hell
mixed as my mouth
filled with sweat
and blood

the taste of fear
caressing my lips

murderous,

the shadow on the wall,
the whistle of wind
through long hair

I take, plunder, delve
into fields of red
Poppy's

remberence

dear God,
remember me

I take you
into my mouth

pierce the purple
skin and expose

the tender flesh,
your yellow reminds

me of bruises,
thawing like snow

blind hands over
a coal fire

you are whole
and full

my tongue rippling
with expectation

the soft brush of
an uncharted

inch of you
against my stark

white skin. I am
broken and

bitter, but your
sweetness spreads

into my pores
like lava

and I explode
with everything

I've pressed into
my breast

every thorn, every
wound, healed

by the taste of
your plum

I belong to you -
your body gleaming
white under the
unforgiving moon -
we can hack the
silver out of the
sky, swallow
stars like Asprin -
each circle of
relief bringing
me back to
you, folded into
the corners of
your mind -
whispering to me
that you are
still alive

I smoked twenty-seven cigarettes
in an hour, once

but the black spots on my lungs,
that the doctor says
will **** me

the breathless wheeze
when I try to talk

the
shudder
of
air
escaping

as my veins collapse
into the cavernous
shell of my b o d y

all
come
from
you

Old age hit me
like a fist

I was planting roses
carelessly, never anxiously
avoiding their thorns

my teeth were my own,
I could bite into a hard, green
apple easily

there was no consequence,
no fear of an explosion of
false enamel

vegetables grow into
something beautiful over time
if you treat them right.

unlike the shell of a woman
bleached, oversaturated,
badly composed, framed

by misery.

A seventeen year old girl
bending into the hands of
a childlike man

unaware of the flames
she was igniting,
her body slamming
into the kitchen floor

you will cry in the morning,
weep for the innocence
you lost, the shock of
surviving your own
******

unwantedly.

I was thirty before
I tried to disappear
back into the oblivion
of filthy London streets

thirty pills, one for
each year, a litre
of ***** and a
badly written
death note

I survived. Just long
enough to paint a
picture of adulthood

a husband, a wife
a son, a daughter
I was everything
and nothing all
at once

old age hit me
like a fist

a rattle of dust
in an urn
and a hundred of
the flowers I have
always hated

they cry, thinking I am lost,
I smile, knowing that I
was never found

Your mouth is wild;

teeth like jagged rocks,
cliffs that I must climb
to crawl inside

of you

the sea is senseless,
salt scattering
dreams

in segments

we must master
the waves if
we are

to swim

our survival dependent
on something deviant
an echo of

the past

we are all surfing
our secrets, serving
the part of us

that hides

your tongue as
temptation, Cyanine
spiked kisses

and I

in sync with
the ocean,
sailing blind

Thunder roars around me
as I lay curled under
thick covers -
a cotton cocoon
where I am safe and
slight -
I am not your
average less than
nothing girl -
the shape of a cross,
a lie wrapped in
layers of the truth -
I took myself to the
ocean one night,
bruised feet touching
the waves -
I stood, shakily as
they rolled through me,
rocking me back to
the past

Does my body not
frighten you?

the scars that run from
elbow to wrist. The pieces
of memory that vanished
with the flick of a Bic
lighter

my solidness. Like a rock
gathering moss, weather
beaten to look at,
rough to the touch

my thighs that have
greeted Lucifer, the firm
push of his hands.
Spreading, swallowing
the dessert, sand sticking
to the back of my
chipped teeth

my eyes, robbed blindly
of innocence. A storm
cloud swirling, frequent
showers of rain that
soak my cheeks

my mouth, that has
tasted strawberries, picked
fresh and kneaded into
a pulp

my knees, bent praying
at my bedside. For forgiveness,
for freedom, for tomorrow's
fling

does my body not
frighten you?

lacking heart, rotting flesh,
the deepest pores of
regret

God fearing -
we kneel before altars,
sipping red wine,
a representation of
human blood when
we are already
bleeding

to death -
there is nothing
but the illustrated,
yellow pages of
a chained bible
that fails to reach

us -
dancing naked
in the storm;
a storm child
born under thunder,
black clouds that

swallow -
us whole yet,
you are made of
the darkness,
swimming in it's
mirky waters like a

mermaid -
I take Heaven
into my mouth
when we kiss,
hungry for a taste
of that forbidden fruit
that will take us both to

Hell

I know the touch of the
palm of your hand against
my thigh, the well thumbed
lines that lead me to your wrist.
I know that wrist, I know
your neck and shoulders,
knees and toes. The curve
of your spine, the sand dunes
of the moon. There is no
part of your body that I
am not acquainted with.
Your heart, rattling like a
milk tooth in the folds of
my fist

The curves of your sleeping body
leave me on

tenterhooks -

the space between dreams
and waking

a pause -

the arch of your back shining
like the moon

translucent -

a slice of time preserved in the
maze of my

memory

Flesh, flesh and
bone

the grave digger
clawing away at
the dirt

a shovel first
then hands

years of nail
biting offers the
earth a home

under his skin,
I am not one
to sift

patiently waiting
for old coins
or gold

the broken skull
of a cat, a chipped
molar

that belonged to
a father, forgotten
in the yellowed papers

of time. Skin,
skin and bone
I died a year ago

hollow, rattling in
the fist of my
mother

white sheets that
wrapped my
limbs

are pulled tight,
a half ghost
human shaped

my mouth is wide
with the Earth,
taken in and

****** like a plum,
skin and flesh
swallowed

whole. There is
only bruised
fruit on the

funeral table. As
the grave digger
claws out my

hole. My first
fixed home,
a house of

soil and acidic
tears. Minerals
and salt

mixing like the
marrows of
lovers

buried in the
ground. I will
never leave

rotting, skeleton
shaking, the deep
breath before the

plunge. A war
lost, my final
hour and I am

home

I am nothing but embers
in the fire pit of
your heart

a Godless girl, kissing
with tongues, skin
burning at

the touch of a
weather beaten man

I fell for you, headfirst
into the abyss of desire

warmth rising from my
toes, through to my finger -
tips

inhaling the scent of you
by the lungful

my capacity is called
on, and I am a Phoenix

stunted, hatched too
soon, eternally shell -
less

I am sleepwalking through
the depths of your heart,

the ghost of you hanging
like a noose around my neck,

I am no swan, no, not elegant
as gracelessly I float,

from shallow river to sea,
white waters, wild tides,

forever anchored by your lies

My heart is racing
chasing dreams
falling over my
own feet as
I charge head
first into
the future
the present
merely window
dressing for a
soul that has
nowhere to
call home

It was the cruelest thing,
to be told you had to fall

(in love)

to hear that anything would do it,
that it was needless to be picky.

Do not wait for an animal
breath on your neck,

warm and wild
with freedom,

to be a stray woman, abandoned
on the shores of

unrequited lust. To be Godless,
yet pray, as you crawl

between sheets, his heat
rising like yeast beside you

beg, let me stay fearless
and upright,

as my teeth unhook, as I
once was

looking, looking, looking

(love)

The tendrils of your heart
wrap around me like barbed
wire,

puncturing the pale skin
that shields my bones like
a sheet,

some half hearted ghost
that knows the secrets of
near death.

I have been there before,
tangled in tubes, belly full
of Aspirin, blood thinning

in a hospital bed. Shackled
by secrets, a blunt knife
beneath a filthy pillow.

I have looked into the eyes of God
and found them to be merely
mirrors of

my sin

I am told to grow a
backbone -

thicken my skin.

I forget about the burns
on my wrists,

branded by childhood fears
that never fade.

But you took my hands
into yours, stared into my eyes

at the witching hour. 4am is
when the ropes start to

bind. Black dust that fills my
lungs, like tar,

my rib cage shakes when
you circle my heart with

your finger. I was warned not
to give in too easily,

that head over feet, that heat
fizzled out and left you cold.

I do not need to be strong,
when I am held in

your arms, soft and
safe wrapped in the blanket of

your kiss

Mornings turn to noons
that turn to nights

and I am quite content
to wait through the cycle
of time for you

to serve up each hour
in the shattered bowl of
my heart

for you to eat,
for you to meet

me beneath the bridges
that I burnt finding my
way to you

sacred seconds to spend
on holding hands and
kissing through a storm.

It is my destiny to shake
my bones dry,

to carve initials into
rotten trees, nature's
disease

it is a sickness, it's true
to wait for you

We are all humans,
eating sweets from the
palms of our enemies

we are greedy, lustful,
animals. Swallowing air by
the gallon because it's free

our lungs turn black as
coal, black as a starless
night sky

in the garden of discontent,
before Eve tainted the taste
of apples

before Adam bit through the rubbery red skin, down to
the white flesh

taking hope into his mouth
and spitting it straight
back out

God, I am not yet dead,
merely bleeding

from the corners of my mouth

a trickle of red wine,
stained chin

my body is not yet stiff,
it will still bend into the

arms of the right man.

I haven't eaten for days,
a stomach empty of substance

I contain nothing and yet
I am full

stretched skin, silver lines of
greed.

I asked for it, with my wondering hands,

the touch of a soft girl, folding
into my thighs like a castle of

cards. I have sinned beyond
forgiveness and I have nothing

to say. Remorseless, a cold
heart that is shaped like a fist,

a flash of coffee coated teeth
biting into an apple of flesh

God, I am not dead

(yet)

but you can no longer see me

I'll be brave this time,
as I remember

you. Memories folded
into my mind like

love letters stashed
under a bed.

I am a coward, though
and I am unashamed to

cry. Unabashedly run
my own fingers through

my hair. As if recreating
a moment can bring it back

to life. Second hand kisses
that linger, like sugar on my

lips. I did not ask for
forever. No, nor plan for

it. I just wanted one last fix
of you, as your *****

chases my dragons away

The blue-green ocean
spreads out like a fan
before us

our dry, sand imbedded
feet approach

we are timid birds -
uncaged

fearful of the gait
of our shadow

but sand is forgiving
and we step

inch by inch towards
the water

we are so close
that I can taste
the salt

brown seaweed
sticking to my
naked soles

what did we come
here for?

I wanted to see the sun
reflected on a liquid
mirror

I wanted to forage
and find

treasure

but we are stolen
by the waves

carried out across
the shore

we are made
of yesterday's
passion

our bare skin
wrinkling

with age

we have found
nothing but

ourselves

hopeless drifters, now
unclothed, unhinged

and tethered to

the tide

I said
'I miss you'
and I meant
it

but time
does not
stop

and the
world pulses
on around
me

too bright
and too
loud

the beginnings
of panic
when your
pillow is
empty

the way
my heart
hurts

each valve
faulty as
if disease

is wrapped
around my
core

I see your
face in the
night sky

a full moon
glowing over
empty streets

in the stars
that swell
and shrink

I am looking
for you
always

I am the
waves of
the ocean

beating
back to
you

We are picking through the
roots of flowers we have left
to die. Imagining there is
something we can salvage
from the chemical soaked
soil. But we are no experts,
and we cannot tell the
difference between a **** and
a stem. We are blind, hungry
children. Rummaging
through the grains of moon -
rocks that fell to Earth. As
they say that stars can only
shine in darkness, and that
planets steal the oxygen
from human lungs, but -
I am sure we will be able to
breathe somewhere. That
we will find a sparse,
unpopulated land with clear
air that heals, that spreads
through our bodies and sings
that we are home

I imagine us
collecting affections
like loose change

bits hidden everywhere

in couch cushions,
in strong, stitched
seams

pennies hoarded
in an old sweet
jar

cluttered coppers
at the bottom of
coffee cups

we count,
meaningless amounts

building neat piles
of insignificant coins

until they become
our fortune

I am sure -
certain
that you buried
your head into
the hot sand
and now I am
kissing glass
each night -
running my fingers
through a million
splinters of hair
burned black at
the root -
dead as
the dandelions
you plucked -
when I fold
my hands into
the cotton of
my pillow -
when I scream
with pleasure
or call your
name -
I am only
an ocean,
an island short
of ship -
wrecked

Teach me how to talk with God,

I am ready. Kneeling. Knees shaking on a frozen floor

the imprint of mosaic tiles
shining white

like light

I know how to beg, I say
I have pleaded with

a boy

to stop as he became a man
before my eyes

(between my thighs)

I can howl. I can pray,
the moon simply bait for

my soul.

Teach me how to love through
hymns

a simple progression of chords
that stir

the snake around my heart

I have eaten the apple more than once, more than

anyone

still, I can learn

I can learn

teach me how to talk with God

(I'll learn)

Imagine -

this blackness as if it is something
tangible

that you can hide in your
hand

an apple core you can throw
away

when the flesh has been eaten
away

I fall into a medicated sleep
each night

close my eyes to the world
yet still

it moves around me,
pulses

like the streets of a big city
drowned in neon light

I want to touch this hook that has
gutted me

until only my body remains
the outer shell

of something living, the movement
of a clenched fist

plunged into a ribcage that
shatters and pierces the heart

they call it a dog and I know it
is animal

in nature, ruthless,
with an insatiable hunger

I am the root of the dying
flower

resistant but buried under-
ground

I can only see the sun in the
moon

the sea in a handful of salt
rubbed deep into the

wound

It is morning and he -
wakes, slowly,
at a snails pace

another night conquered
another morning seen

I peel an orange for the smell,
I want my fingertips to be ripe
with flesh

the only skin I can touch
without bruising

I make coffee,
black with two sugars

we drink from chipped photo
mugs, our memories fading
as we wash and wash and
wash

them away

the doctor comes at 4
and checks his eyes

counts his pulse to the tick
of an old Grandfather clock

an antique heart, swollen

he tells me that he is before Lazarus,
and I hold no false hope, just his

gray hand, as I gently fold
back the creases in his skin
as they take the canulla

out

Close your body into -
mine.

It's 4AM and the rain is lashing
down, potholes in the sidewalk
swell from the weight of the
water

endless. The belly of a whale,
guts stripped back, open to the next
punch

why did I pick you? That sounds
like the choice of a gardener, an expert at comparing soil for the rate that a flower spreads

into you. I fell. Heart first and aching,
like the dull ache of a thunder headache, the knowledge that it will
soon clear when the storm comes

we held on hard. Through those
New York winters. We found that the
caverns of our minds were filled
with soft light

that we let flow over us. It is the yellow
seed of a rose that spreads into bloom,
tended by tender hands and allowed to keep its thorns, despite the danger they

hold. For us, careless pickers of hearts. Savage and ruthless, the delicate structure of blood

spills. Out of your mouth in the middle of a kiss. You gag. I scream. We dance out a scene. My pockets hold secrets of death, a small vial the eye refuses to linger

on. And on. It takes thirty minutes to bleed out and I count each one down with a passion you made me hide from
myself

on those nights where you held me down and took me, whispered in my ear with wine stained teeth. As I plotted and waited, waited, held my

breath as if it were made of pure gold. As if air were diamonds. I watched you shudder and take your last shake.

I took the rope from my gown and wrapped it round a tree we'd planted together.

At 4AM I kiss the shallow cheek of Death. A roar from the crowd. "More, more" but there is no

more.

The white flesh of your right arm
covers my bones, warms my
bones until the calcium
cackles, lost between
stations. It is winter
now and we burn
wood in a fire to dry
our rain soaked clothes.
Our umbrellas bent with
the weight of the wind.
A macabre statue
of plastic and metal,
a modern art exhibition.
We eat soups and stews,
vegetables and meat
melting into a ***, The
smell of it turning our lips
upwards into a smile. I
loved you in the autumn,
it's true, but it is only now
that I feel at home in the heat
of your soul.

In the end we are just
two people hanging off
the edge of a cliff,
the edge where your body
meets mine, burnt now,
charred black, like bread
you forgot you were baking,
in the oven of our hearts,
we sit, hand in hand, daring
to hope that our lives are
like a Phoenix, waiting
to rise from ashes,
these are the ashes that
they place in jars and watch
for decades, dusted
back to their stone
root, in these pastel
coloured pots we are
held, hands clasped,
trapped in the moment
before we fell into
the sea

Smiling.

It’s easy enough,
a simple twitch at
the corners of my
mouth

but my mouth still tastes
of you, your rough hands
holding me still

we folded in on ourselves,
a house of cards threatened
by the slam of a fist

on a table, where we
shot daggers at each
other's souls

you knew the right words to say
and my defences were low,
no glass case to protect
my body from

their sting

but my organs rest inside
my ribcage, my lungs are save
from the fire of your tongue

and my heart beats against
their bars, pulsing, pulsing,
pulsing away from

you

Pain dies quicker than love, they say

as I held your hand as your
heart stopped

and took your last breath
into my mouth

my pierced lips clamped over yours,
red meeting blue, blending into purple

colours mixed by artless hands
a shadow on a grainy photograph

the last image of our love
prised from my fist

pain dies quicker than love, they say
and I loved you too much

to care

Exit wounds,
the holes in my hands
that bleed, trickling down

Stigmata,
an offering to God
a rallying call
to arms

I am Adam
biting the apple
the flesh of that fruit
the closest thing
to Hell

(and I am heading, heading there)

they ask me if I meant it
as if meaning means something
more than it does, when words can exist without it

here are the facts of me
(I say)

I have never broken a bone
I don't eat red meat and
I counted out each pill

it would be less ugly
to find me this way
than slit and gaping
in the bath

I was careful (too careful)
the first time

still, you learn by living
from not

dying. Death, I name my
hands

hands that throttled the throats
of a thousand men, the ones
I destroyed with my hips

(that was before)

I knew the taste of thirty Aspirin

this time
this time
this time

I'll survive if they kick me hard enough
if they call my name loud enough
if the doctor writes furiously enough

I am not enough.

By the sun flooded window
a single rose opens like a hand

secrets that we carry like
bombs, detonate

shrapnel finds a home in our
hearts

bruised ribs break like the stem of a flower

in the hands of an impatient child

we walk knowingly into the ocean, collecting water in

our cupped hands. Letting it trickle away from us back into

the sea. We are part of a cycle now, in one simple, selfish act

we take life into our mouths when we kiss

twisting it between our teeth, tonguing it like an ulcer

wet, red lips that beg without
begging

a single rock can start an avalanche and we are

many. Heavy footed in the snow, we take death

into our mouths when we kiss, bite down hard into its

flesh. A peach that sits comfortably in a hand

ripe and ready before rotting. How do we know it's death

we're tasting? When the buds of life remain

unopened

His gutting of me,
fishlike
a hook at the end of his finger
(curling)
& me
bare skinned at
his knees
the nakedness of
a child
innocent lines
& curves of
flesh. My
gapping thighs
withered
beyond the
cure of ***
& tone
death girls
place shells
to their ears
to hear the
roar of the
sea. A mighty
whitewashed
wave crashing
against the
shore
& in that
moment I
am shaking
on the end
of a line
at the
mercy of
the devouring
hands of
a man

Hunger made you sink
to your knees,

sifting through the earth for
red berries that have fallen
from a blackbird's beak,

I bring water to quench
your thirst. How simple
an act and how
magnificent,

to think myself stronger
than famine,

strong enough to tame  
war torn cities into
sleeping dogs,

I am fire, light and air

the very elements of
existence

a supernova, burning up
a planet

I am the begining and
the end

of everything

& I thought
that the pink pills
would slide down
my throat
like ice cream
but I gagged
and choked

& I thought
that a footprint
vanished as
soon as
more snow
fell

& I thought
that a
final prayer
howled from
within the
shaking temple
of my body
would set
me free

& I thought
I thought
I thought
that suicide
would be the
end of me

& yet it
birthed me
back into
the world

& my newly
weaved pink
skin slided
into a time
before into a
a narrative
that was
impossible
before

Their searching eyes devour me

starved, ribs opening the skin

like a dam busting a river

I am lying to myself, lying

when I say 'I love you'

I do not love, no, not like this

bare backed and pushed against a wall

begging, pleading, please,

a warning on my skin

red tape saying that I am

'fragile'

brown paper wrapping my bones

and a yellow hazard sign

hanging from my *******

I take you by the
elbow, hold onto you
like cherry blossom clings
to a tree in spring, only
to shed itself, scatter in
the wind when summer
comes

a light breeze blowing
as we sit next to the
lake, threading dandelions
into necklaces because
that yellow **** is
all we have
to pick

I am sure the face
of that deathly still
water imprinted itself
on your heart that day,
with the sky forget me -
not blue, shining down
on us,

the sun, licking our bare
arms, as if we are
the only reason for its
flames

It was a long time ago, years
(or maybe it wasn't)

time blurs and blends
into the folds of my mind

a trapped moment, a decade
long howl at the moon

I mean to say, it was that day
that we visited the lake

the water reflected the sky
so perfectly in the sunlight

distorted, things are bigger
when we look back at them
(or smaller, maybe)

the wings of a blackbird spreading,
it's muzzled song

I kept a pocket of light in my hand
and held it out to you

you drank from the cusp, deeply
your lips glistened with it

I licked off the sugared
strawberry juice

that gathered at the corners of
your mouth

it dripped down my chin
red, as fire

and twice as hot
(or maybe not)

I am sure I saw you once
before

at a bus stop, your mouth hanging down to the

ground

rain splashing at your feet, puddles growing like

secrets that are kept close for decades, only to burst

open when the dam cracks
when the heart

cracks

open, we are books to be ideally flicked through

numbered pages and squint to see words

words, I think in words now
testing the weight of them

in my mouth. I know the words
that hurt

the words that heal

I am healing myself, a poem blowing through an open

window

late nights hiding with a flashlight, pouring myself

into paragraphs

I am sure I saw you once
before

but the moment passed and
I crept away

sunk myself into the streets like a brick tied

to a body that walks into a
river, eyes closed

drunk on death dreams,
white eyes roll

backwards. Back to the start. Adulthood shedding itself

as the skin wrinkles

I am sure I saw you once
before

but I kept my heart clutched
behind my teeth

and opened wide for
no-one

London, I turn to your fearless  face. A face that remembers fires and plagues. Blazing flames that I now wrap around myself to keep warm. As I walk, hand in hand with the river. I  taste the smoke of my cigarette, blown back into my face. I hold onto your size, your shape moulding into my soul. I take all of you into the cracks of my skin. Streets buzzing like an open wire. A cackle of noise that blurs into the background yet remains coloured. In your neon bright arms, I have built myself a home.

In the depths of the ocean
we have walked in to

I fill my hands with sea water
and hold them out to you

a salt drink, bringing forth salt tears

and in that, a thirst that I
could not ease

a force of nature I could not
contain

we abstain, from kissing with eyes closed

we have memorised the valleys of our flesh, translated

them into Braille beneath our fingertips

to be read in the dark and it is
dark now

your back arched like a cat, sensing danger

strangers, up to their necks, treading water

and wondering if it would really be so bad

to drown

My skin cackles in the heat
black sand, like burning coals
to walk over, an ocean too still
to believe it is alive

This is the long drive home
the memory of a heartbeat on a
television screen, fading,
sits in the passenger seat

This is our nightly entertainment
we take dinner at six, our throats
hoarse from screaming silently
at stars, from asking God to
have mercy, from asking fate
to detour. Take a break, on us, we say,
but we do not pray

Anymore. What is prayer? But the dull rustling of thoughts, the sins of a mother who worked two jobs but couldn't make the rent that week.
What is prayer but the heavy thud
of a heart

a heartbeat. Breaking up over static,
signal failing, reception blurred. This is the end, so they say, 'do not resuscitate', my father signed his name in ink. In blood.

We drive. We do not cry. We walk across the fiery beach and drink from the the salt soaked sea, to feel, to prove,

We are alive.
We are alive.
We are alive.