• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 03
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Secret routes to the shore

When you’re landlocked
there are certain tricks
to conjure lobster-pots and ship-yard bustle
Ways to encourage waves to lap right up
to your front door

Yes, there is the pasta-water one
Make it as salty as the Mediterranean
and as you taste it you’ll slip under Grecian waves
Feel the hot white sun still on your face
Limbs light in the aquamarine

But for full effect, run a hot bath
Save the bubbles and
the grey-green light will shine through
Allow it to sit as a mirror might
Then let your body fold into the space

Let the water flow between your ears
It will speak of moonlit fishing villages
Of high tides and caves only navigated by night
Listen out for beaches that belong to creatures
where the water is wildest


Secret routes to the shore

Breathe out and sink
pass the wrecks and unloved, polluting things
Find yourself at peace amongst the starfish
Alone in the inky blue
the silence is as deep as time

Surface, because you must
Go about your day
Keep the kelp in your hair
and the salt on your tongue
The sea will be waiting, there is no rush