when the wind moves
between the seasons on a moonlit night
there’s just enough space for you to lie down
too narrow rooms and too narrow
thoughts
keep you trapped beneath glass
ground you ( like a freak of …)
it draws blood from your hips to stay
everything in this world you’ve touched you’ve tried to love
yet your sticky sparks dare
anyone to come close
My heart is clear
listening to my gut
allowing space for my mind
to catch up
the sea is air-force blue
and glassy
and speaks to my soul
in a hushed whisper
the same sound and softness
from my clear heart
Climbing trees, juicy mangoes
pliant flesh and ashy elbows
to be running free through the long grass
and burrs sticking to legs, gaze widening
no thought for shiny brown skin
causing hate, no thought for others
just green
grief shedding like leaves
appreciating the magic and sorrow
as it should be –
surrender and transform
I learn to be here, becoming,
as each riding curl of water,
silver slivers, runs
towards my toes
and retreats.
Nothing stays the same
in this liminal space.
Black Sea – Sea black.
Night is my skin …
To be continued
Blindfolded,
bound by crows
unable to gaze
beyond the veil,
I choose helpless
and wallow
in a sword pronged
dungeon.
To be black with wings
is better than none.
As the night sky –
a portal of possibilities –
beckons me
only my shackled
screams can reach
that high
I’m the grey-green North Sea
tide out
calm and clear;
from the shimmering ripples
spreading out
amongst the glossy seaweed
In case you’re a kid who doesn’t have the right equipment,
and just in case you’re growing too big for your bones and
have to walk around in second-feet shoes,
take a moment to nestle in the autumn chilled grass,
lean in close, breathe in the slack conker smell and squint.
You might not have a magnifying glass but you can still
recognise kin. Ladybirds, beetles and ants.
Creatures of the earth. Overlooked and taken for granted,
caretake as you learn to nurture yourself into bloom.
craving and restless
at a loss
knowing my medicine
and not taking it
to suffer; a tradition passed down
through our bodies
attempting to work against it
sharing time
with water helps to heal
the wounds, silence the cries
Living Wild Studios 