• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 03
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The Heart

These are the things we cast off.
A wedding dress
spreadeagled on the shore
limp as a body bag.
Inside: a still-beating heart
that flutters with the wave pulse. 

The sky is blue as a dart frog.
Poisonous blue.

The wedding dress is a plastic bag
to wrap around the pale beak of a gannet. 

White sea-foam
is pressed on the beach like baby’s breath
between the pages of an old book
while jellyfish splay themselves;
tiny glaciers melting in the sun. 

The heart keeps rhythm with the tide. 

Above, a lacework of clouds
lift their flimsy petticoats
as sailing ships weigh anchor
and drift like something
risen from, or returning to, the sea.