beached
the sea speaks with the shrieks of children
and gulls raucous upon icecream cornets
folding blues into whites
into the coves of waves running
like the roars of caved trumpets
heralding the unpicking of the sky’s bobbin
across screaming seams torn with a knife’s horizon
that i spy from a deckchair striped in snooze
feet upped hatted and as red as
a raspberry sorbet melting
drunk of the sun’s plum breath
eyes like piss holes in the sand
salt-hidden as an X in a pirates dream
a parody of shiver me timbers jim lad
and so i am
fast asleep
in the deep end
buried under warm sand
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