• Vol. 03
  • Chapter 10
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The diving boards are gone from the rocks,
the chained raft is loose and lost,
but the same waves lick the day into shape.

Though my eyes are closed, I know
my skin’s the shade of candyfloss,
the breeze teasing years away

to days of arcades and Ferris wheels,
spinning high and kissing strangers
because I could, building lighthouses

of sand, hope and aspiration
to see beyond the smudged horizon,
so far that I see myself

now. Thoughts are origami boats
folded from teen mags, pin-ups,
lipstick messages in drained bottles,

with ice cream sails that billow
like swirled cotton skirts, dancing
with dazzled gulls on a summer pier.

There’s no shadow in the light that flickers
on closed eyelids; no threat
in the whispered promise of the endless sea.