You hover on
cloud formations
you whisper around
the crown of my mind.

I catch you like
a moth in the wind
and when I’m near you
I have to fly away.

Sand so warm
as if it’s always waited
to contain me
clouds concertina.

Sky is fleeced with
angel hair and you float
like fish bubbles like sea snake
impossible to contain.

Sand struck

Last night’s silver ladder
has turned to golden stairs
tide crosses the board-walk
we queue for sunset;
women hover like hummingbirds
skin sweet ,eyes sucking
beach boy’s barter
jet ski rides for kisses.

Each grain of sand
perfectly formed
like a mini universe
turned by the tide
stuck to my foot
carried home
to the cruel north
to burn me.