chelsea sim

Shoreline

i say the sea is stupid,

stupid for kissing the

shoreline no matter how

many times it was sent away.


oceanography is romance.

watch each wax and wane of

moon waves, push and pull of

each warm (or cold) tidal current.


kill is unloaded, a day's plunder or

price, relief or regret, a new sack

of worries or joy with a fishy smell.

seaside lives anchored to a seabed.


edge of plunging depths, children

playing on its sand dune muscles,

all drenched in sunlight, salt-

tangled hair, sand between their

toes.


certainly not a place for

decision-making. briny sea-breath,

shoreline, hold each and every sun-

tinted horizon close to heart.