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I imagined my body made from sand

tide tickling the tips of my toes

sea breeze brushing away my lips

my nose.

Eyes sunken in the sand like see shells

shoulders shored

hair swept to seaweed.

Hips, still strong, forming ridges.

Ribs rooted as rocks

Stomach sunk forming pools

Skin turned to moss.

//

The sea, she’s my lover

I lap her up

taste her salt on my tongue

she soaks my skin and tangles my hair

ties my wrists with seaweed

sows shells down my spine

washes over me in waves

waits

then leaves me on the shore

breathless.

///

When the moon comes 

she succumbs.

The tide tears her between sand and sky.

She pulls away

takes with her the shells she sowed and the salt she shed

not looking back

but I know she too sheds salty tears.

Me, I’m left shattered and scattered 

pieces of glass.

The waves they crashed 

left me crashed, crushed, mush.

Dull with dog shit

drowning

no more than driftwood drifting

dry and dying.

There’s a reason they warned of the sea.

I should have known about the strength of the tide and the sway of the moon.

//// 

In spite of it all, I still worry for her when she’s sick.

It’s the strength of her tide 

which pulls me in.

She coughs litter

froths foam

splutters sewage.

The plastic is polluting her bones

a plague in her waves.

It was several months after that she asked me if she’d ever snored. I didn’t want to think about the answer, because if I did I would be thinking about how she didn’t snore, but how she’d make soft comforted noises that sometimes would make me laugh in the dark because she sounded like a guinea pig. 

Or I’d think about how she’d pull my hips as close to her as possible, so that her legs could cup my body. My bed the scaffolding, she the ropes and my bedroom the bottom of a cliff. 

Or how we’d fall asleep talking, usually (always) me first. Always touching.

Or how in the morning when I got out the shower she would spread her arms out across the place I had been sleeping, not to get more space in the bed but to hold onto my warmth for a little longer before she was ready to wake

or how she only slept well when she was with me

or how if I turned over in the night, she would reach across to me and pull me in

or how serious her face would look when she’d fall back asleep, brows furrowed and lips slightly apart

or how grateful she was every time I brought her a cup of tea when we woke, even though it was every time.

And how we’d spend hours there screaming with laughter, or lying on top of one another, or legs wrapped around each other. Sometimes wrestling, often kissing

lips/stomachs/bums/backs

tying each other’s wrists to the headboard

clenching pillows

making the bedsheets wet

or sometimes smearing chocolate on them after late-night snacking. 

Or I’d think about how we’d launch piggy backs from there

get high from there

watch people go in and out of my flat, up and down the road from there.

How much love was sewn in the sheets, both sewn like thread and sown like seeds.

In June, I went on an old person’s boat tour with my flatmate and we drank all of the free wine. I went to stay with a family friend in the south of France and I visited Cannes. I flew to Bordeaux with my flatmate where we stayed in a little old apartment. We ate out in restaurants and enjoyed tasting the wine. We stumbled over the biggest sand dunes in Europe which were incredible. Me and O went to Marseille and we were so in love. We ate seafood at night and watched the sunset from the port. We came across a small fishing village where we jumped from the rocks into the sea. We stayed in a studio and loved falling asleep pressed together in the heat with the windows open. We played music from a big old stereo and lit candles. We spent a morning walking to the Callanques and it was one of the most beautiful places I have ever been. We walked across white cliffs to a small beach where we swam from. We jumped off the rocks and spent the whole day in the sea. I was so happy to find someone who never wanted to leave the ocean either. We returned to the city, sunburnt and happy and with tired legs. I was sad to say goodbye to Lyon.

In July, we went to O’s parents’ house in Northumberland. We walked around the countryside and I felt comforted being in her home. I travelled down south and volunteered at Latitude festival. I had the best time and didn’t want to leave. I loved seeing The National, Perfume Genius, Laura Mvula, The Maccabees, Christine and the Queens, and singing along to New Order with middle-aged men. I jumped in the lake with glitter-stained cheeks and wished I could live forever in a Latitude summer haze. We went out in the forest at night and smoked until sunrise. I spent a few days in London with O after that. We went to the theatre and ate churros from Greenwich market. From there, I went to St Ives where my granddad was really ill. I cared for him along with my mum. One afternoon, he shouted my grandma’s name really loudly. She went to him and asked what he needed. He said, “nothing darling, just to see your face”.

I spent August au-pairing in the south of France. I enjoyed weekends at my friend’s with barbecues and wine. I went from there to Puglia to beaches and the sea. I picked figs in the garden and photosynthesised.

In September, my granddad passed away. I went back to St Ives for the funeral and it was really difficult. We spent a day on the beach with sandwiches and went surfing. I went back to Edinburgh for university. I moved into a flat with our own front garden.

October was empty. I fell reluctantly into Autumn. I visited family and friends back in Yorkshire.

In November, I took a friend to see a light show at the botanical gardens. I went to see Christine and the Queens in Glasgow with friends and dozed off, happy and glittery on the bus home.

In December, me and O went to St Andrews. We stayed in a beautiful bed and breakfast with homemade shortbread and sherry. We ate seafood and walked along the beach at sunset. St Andrews was beautiful. We had a dreamy weekend away. As we got deeper into winter, my health got worse and I broke up with O. Exam season started but my brother got diagnosed with cancer. I didn’t leave my bed for a few days. I went to be with him and I cried when he was released from hospital on Christmas Eve. We spent an unusual Christmas together as a family. I was back in Edinburgh for a few days over new year. We watched the fireworks over the castle and had a party in my flat. In the morning, we woke up to bagels, juice and coffee in the kitchen. We pulled on clothes and walked up the crags for sunset. I began 2017 with uncertainty, but with wonderful friends and a clearness from seeing Edinburgh up high.

I began 2016 huddled on a rooftop terrace watching fireworks exploding across the bay of Naples. I stayed in Puglia and swam in the sea. I was back in Lyon for my birthday, and at the weekend we went skiing in the Alps. It was my first time skiing, I’d never been that high up in the mountains before. I loved the rosy cheeks and breathtaking views and the achey muscles afterwards.

In February, it was sunny enough to sit out on the balcony at my apartment in Lyon. One day, I explored Annecy. I went back to Edinburgh to celebrate my birthday there with friends. We had salsa lessons and I kissed O. I learnt how special and intimate relationships with women could be. I felt her soft skin and stayed in her bed until I had to catch my flight. Back in Lyon, I loved going to the market and buying fresh vegetables. I bought myself flowers and homemade peach jam.

In March, I fell in love. I went to Tours with O and we ate mango in a yellow sunshine-filled room with plants lining the walls. We lay on the balcony in the warmth and I gazed at her under blossom in the botanic gardens. I visited Paris and wandered around galleries and gardens. My favourite was walking along the Seine as the sun went down. In Lyon, I got involved with protests and enjoyed drinking beer on the steps by the river.

April saw more sunsets with beers by the river, ice cream, and sitting on my balcony. I got more involved with Nuit Debout and enjoyed the discussions and marches. We loved the sunshine and drinks from the boat bars on the river. I learnt Lyon by foot, walking, running and cycling around the city.  I travelled to Grenoble and later back to Italy to see my parents. They settled in a small house surrounded by wildflowers and dry stone walls. I loved wandering by the sea alone, swimming and laying topless on the sand. We made pizzas in a friend’s wood-burning oven in the countryside.

May was beautiful. I stayed in Montpellier with friends in a big country house. We went to the beach and ate meals together on a blue balcony surrounded by flowers. We drank wine and soaked in the sunshine. We explored the city and returned to the country for a barbecue in the vineyards. We travelled back to Lyon for more drinking on the steps and sipping coffee outside cafes. I enjoyed Yoko Ono’s exhibition and being outside. I visited my brother in Geneva and swum in the lake there. O came to Lyon, we bought fruit and bread from the market and took it to the park for a picnic. We went out on the lake on a pedal boat. My brother came to visit, as well as a couple of friends. I showed them around the beautiful city I’d absolutely fallen for.

I dreamt that your body was a train track and I am the train

daedalians:

pure, & i mean that: 
her hair touching my arm as she sleeps.
imagine feeling that safe. i can. 

i do. the terror of all times stops, the night
freezes. she shifts quietly but doesn’t wake. 

soft midnight breathing like a blue hammock,
paradisiacal. everything evil becomes bearable.

& i think, i’ve loved you the whole 
of my life, which isn’t possible, 
my life only started when i loved you, 
which is.

(via alonesomes)