Prose

Her Summer

Not a murmured breeze rustled leaves on the great palm above her lasciviousness.
Air dank in tequila and orange on her breath, exhaled from the long deep glow on the end of her fag.

She motioned small circles above herself toward the sun scorching her not so baby soft skin; years of sun-beds and liposuction fold in small ringlets over the top of her stretched pink side tied, bikini bottom.

‘Isn’t it wonderful?’ her lips mouth to the clear skies of siesta, and
glistening forms on sandy patches who won’t notice waves that don’t crash.

Her eyes glaze, and quiver, half shut in anticipation of what the heated hours ahead may deliver her alcohol soured blood.
She closes her mind to the images, in a shake of her head, and grips the side of the fluffy ‘Minnie Mouse’ towel with a significant sigh.

She sits, applies sunscreen (you know the fancy one that comes out in a fine misty spray?) too near her face, behind larger-than-average-sunglasses.
They, languid on white towels, crane
in her direction,
and resume satiated dormancy under colourful hats –
there is nothing much of interest to see.

She blinks the mirage from her eyes as the sting deepens,
burns through her flesh, her mind, into her heart.
And she closes them.
‘Isn’t it wonderful?’ she gestures at the setting sun wrestling a sexy floral beach-cover-up over her hot body;
Tonight, as all nights, she will sleep in a fever.

IW

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Wash Me Away – Oceans – Still

Would we be fools to dream?

Better to live in an illusion than face reality and fade?
If life is a spiral of growth, as round we go and each time more is grasped, where is it we meet our pinnacle, our destiny, or is it our fate? When time has stood still?

It never did in my hands, nor face, nor soul, but Alpha and Omega burned from behind my eyes.
The light you found, dims as I see times cruelty where nothing exists beyond its passing.

The tick stopped only for moments and in them, everything, eternally everything and nothing, made sense; those moments when I thought I found you.

Now I bow to the force of gravity, not fighting the ache in my bones except to meet a new sun. Now, I let you go just as you did so you could live; now I hold my flowers wilted with hat shading me from daylight. I wait staring to sea, as in paintings of me I did when seventeen. You look at me again then and I will be little, not great, and I will call you Dear one.
But I held you (as you did me) so I can breathe.

And on the shore of then, the ocean of tears-never-found will wash me away finally.

IW

Am I The Shore? – Oceans five –

Am I the shore? Place to rest in sun
’til waters reflect.
I know it is not what I am
to you, but many.

Am I for the wandering?
Hide here in time-
Tear up on cliffs, let go, fall
deep in water.
With salty wounds shelter staring,
in a cave, between fires silhouette.
Morning comforts rise across an ocean;
Find fortune on those shores.

Sail in, out, and smile goodbye,
Our island fruit in parlour – stay strong
In heart and soul labours.

Only you return, not to rest,

to climb and feast.

~IW~