grains of sand
between two slices of bread
blackberry juice boxes and orange dilute

a gloop of oily sun-block
a scent of petrol, coconut, ice-cream
and nothing but pastel blue

a canary yellow body-board
dropped in above my knees
my mother tugging it along

goading me towards the deep
I cling to it til she snaps it from me
I'm pulled underneath

limbs thrashing, lungs gasping
the shock of being afloat
was how I learned to swim in the Maharees

on sandy Fahamore
under Brandon mountain peak

He had been becoming older
I looked at him the same
his dark hair showed no signs of it
his beard had flecks of grey

I remember we would take refuge
under blankets
or a fort made of cushions
we'd stay up later than our mother knew

soon he would be the parent
being hidden from
when his little boy grows up
maybe he'll be a rogue, like you were

occupied in work
with the thought of coming home to be a father
it feels like we're living the future now -
he's married and so settled down

light blue sheets cover the weary mother
they catch my eye, I smile
because they match the cap and romper suit
of his new-born baby boy

I walk on black crunchy sponge
barefoot, blank-minded, bedraggled

my backdrop is violent grey, green,
then white white white

wind whips my cheeks
then calms itself, calms me

I miss my sunshine on days like this
when the weather is rough

I appreciate it the most

I left the coast
on a tiny blue and red rowing boat
I left my shoes on the pier
and jumped right in

I row to a beach and look along it
in moonlight
searching for those certain blue eyes
that I only half-remember
but all I see is strangers staring,
why are they sunbathing at night?

I give up, row back to land
the only sound is me pushing water
I struggle up the rungs of the ladder

lose my footing
fall
then suddenly
I don't know
whether I made it up the ladder at all

These double doors are my eyes that see into peoples' lives
the end of a neon bright hallway, surgically clean
a lone traveller drags her life by the handle
here at an obscure hour while others sleep

I wonder if it's necessary that she leave?
She seems so removed from the furrowed brow
ticking watch business-man beside her
Watch the time. A missed flight. The world unfamiliar.

The agitated jitter of a lady puzzles me,
why does she cry? what is she leaving behind?
where will she go?
the airport departure lounge
purgatory
for a travelling soul.

I pray for my younger days to be filled with adventure,
for my mind to be vast and generous
without any preconceptions or prejudice

I wish that some day my written words can stir
a non-believer,
a person who does not yet know
that poetry can change a person

I hope I will raise a family and in my own way
rectify the mistakes of my parents
but pass on the values they taught me

I hope to stray from anyone whose ideals I do not believe in,
I will be quiet when I'm correct
and I'll be silent when I'm wrong

I want to follow my gut instinct
the hollow feeling in my belly
that is there for a reason

I pray to be naive but vigilant

I pray to never be satisfied,
but to always be content.