Porthcurnow sand is made from shells

the sea is clear as air.

Granite rocks crouch crack-meshed

sparkling with embedded crystal.

 

We spent our first night here

in sleeping bags between two rocks

where we held hands.

 

Each time I woke

the stars had twirled around

creating a new picture.

At dawn I swam.

 

A tiny black leach attached itself

to my left breast.

Strange seas!

Strange seas!

 

On our way back to London

we lay on grass beside a Little Chef,

still holding hands.

And so our story began.

 

I sit on sand made up of shells

now you are ash

and I am dust.

A gentle tide comes in.

 

And in the ocean

bivalves gape

soon to be sand

between other toes than mine.

Strange seas

Strange seas!

 

 

 

28th Aug 2011