Salt crusted.
Ever lingering
Remnants of my ancestors.
I allowed them to settle and fall away,
In their own time.
Sparkling in the rose dusted shadows,
The evening tilted further under
Into itself.
While the ocean clung to me
Because I belong to the sea.
Salt water Mob.
She had tasted my eyelashes,
Salted by the ceaseless brackish
Behind my skin.
Sodden and languid
Haunted by suffocated song.
And though the taste endured on her tongue,
She couldn’t understand
That I belong to the sea.
Distant salt water Country.
I drowned out the shore break
Floating face up in a lake of gin.
Dusted in sugar,
I heard muffled words of nonsense
A lantana language,
Toxic and smothering
My native tongue.
That belongs to the sea.
Calls to salt water Corroboree.