AIMEE TACON

And then I thought – to fall in love is to stagger
to trip my way across a lonely beach
squinting, as thought I might find your windy beauty there,
that when I held my hat to my head, with all my might,
warding off the sharp sting of your smile –
there is a version of your eyes that live in the sky.

Am I waiting for a kiss or a bite?
Could our blood come together, salt of the sea,
cold as the whip of the storm
to take me, drown me, swallow me whole.

I realised I had not written since I wrote about you.