A white whiskered cat purrs along the barrier,
hissing at cliffs when its angry back arches.
Frothing milk forms,
lapped up by coarse tongues.

There are more stars in the sky than grains of sand on the earth,
and that scares me.
I want to climb inside a shell,
and hear the tranquil surf behind my eyes,
Curled up like a foetus, cradled and secure.

I wish I could imprint scales into my skin
and dive to the bottom of the swelling sea,
submerged into an untouched kingdom.
Although I wonder,
if it’s lonely down there.

Moisture hits my restless tongue,
parched by salted air.
Grains make unwanted homes between toes.
The flaming sphere scorches faces.
Once-invisible freckles rise,
like air-trapped bubbles rising to the surface.

Washed up cuttlebone.
Silk brushed carcass,
passed its shell life,
pristine, untouched,
gleaming in its pearly form.
Static and proud,
it sleeps on the bed of faithful sand,
a reminder of vivacity.

A lion’s face caresses the surface,
one fatal yawn
and it’s extinguished by dusk.

The beautiful thing about the ocean,
is the way it always returns to kiss the sand.