Love, I am tired of love

I imagine an alphabet without love

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A nonsense should be substituted in its place

Death Plunge Day Dust


I have no memories
sailors lay no claim
to memory


I still bear the scars but they are no longer infected


A pirate has requested my hand in marriage
I have refused him as I no longer love the sea


Do not accept their offers of fruit
the taste remains bitter


I have many suitors, they mistake my breasts for sour honey

I am not offended

I collect their sweet songs

I hide them in my dowry box

Phillip a of the Sands

was my best friend
she drowned ten years ago
we no longer communicate


I am frightened of death
I am planning my suicide with great precision

My Godchildren

colour my many maps red
we sell these together
at street markets
caring little
about infection

Phillip a of the Sands

had a friend called Burton
who is also dead
she loved this boy dearly
although they never spoke

Story of Love  

We were seated at his table. The table, circular in shape was highly polished

Each guest looked at their own reflection.

Each reflection was different

I saw a heron swallowing a frog

I felt the love that this wading bird had for the amphibian


You grow produce for me
in your garden
but I prefer the Bee Trees

I admire your sterility

The Final Voyage

On my final voyage, the captain informed me that our ship was terminally ill with a terrible disease. It was unlikely that the vessel would survive the voyage. He asked me as a friend to treat her tenderly during her final days. The plan was that we would beach her on a lonely shore and let her drown slowly. We carried out our plan and left the dying ship on the sands.

On the voyage back a tempest took hold of us. It had been angered at our loss of love. All the crew drowned except me. I was rendered alive onto a strange coast where I was cared for.

I fell in love with all my carers but their return was rendered useless in the conflict that followed.

I was not loved by my captors although I loved them. We fought many wars together and they grew to love me. This duality brought me my freedom

Phillip a of the Sands

In time I visited her grave. There was nothing left except a wide expanse of sand. I had not expected more. The infection although present had ceased and would for the time being be of no consequence

My Godchildren     

Had accompanied me on the visit as the markets had been closed. They played happily on the sands as I rested. In time they had found a whalebone and in the tidal sand began to search for love.

They too imagined an alphabet without love

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