*the children*

1 September 2013

I smell jasmine and salt taffy. Pink scents permeate the
bedroom flowered wall-to-wall small buds blossomed. Blue
night draws dark streaks from the lagoon, calm water calling
toes and ankles. Not abandoned and not remembered, waiting
in this damp place. Drownt down district washed clean
scrubbed red by an impatient other. I long for kept light sailed
safe into harbors far. Rudderless boat moth-loved sails.

This entry was posted in 43.0: MASQUE and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Related Posts:

Please read Cordite's comments policy before joining the discussion.