THE HONEYMOONERS

slides out of...
my arms: then. . .
crashes back in again

a cuddle, that
most difficult of things
to maintain

whilst crossing the
Bay of Biscay
life is swell, well...

we imagine a ship hit
by wave after wave of
broken biscuits

after a toddler
rechristens it
The Bay of Biscuits

endless days
only sea to be seen
forgotten what land is

feeling perpendicular
and horizontal at
the one and the same time

losing our bearings
but we an ever fixed mark
the latitude and longitude of

love.