Reprieve (This is not a Spelling Poem)

Couldn't delete the one with the grass.

The one with the ear to the wall with a glass

                           The one that needs pinching,

bruises tucked up her sleeves 

under the ocean, under the weave

changing in colour

hidden 

not subtle

scouring lost beaches

for small blades to scuttle

shredding thick-skinned heels
burrowing with glee.

Peer down from your thorned crown
unable to flee.

Warm red spills onto small stones and spiked shells

A shining, a pouring, a drowning

     A mourning

Can you still hear the sea?

   A farewell tide teases

for a taste of lapsed salt blooded kisses.

            They're there

              They are here
                 They are there
                   They are here
                 They are there

                  They are here
                    They are there
                      They are here
                         They are there

                            They are here
                             They are there
                              They are here
                             They are there

                            x x x

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