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the sea has eaten your heart
                         your edges sharpen, golden.                        Where
                       waves’ roll
             has folded you, bold
small parts
amber the sand.                        Where
wafer-notes of a lost
shanty jingle underfoot:           
           exfoliant songshapes.
the             new moon pares
her nail over the mirror.                        Where
sea sieves
a life’s pieces and keeps the gleaming.                        Where
through your lens
the world slips
             gold like a fish
                                  a ray
caught in foam nets, shorelines’
curation.                         Where
your halved             bivalve means
solitude, no one            to close
into.                        Where
translucent hours cut             loose
flower             gold, each petal aflame. 


Go to Dr Felicity Plunkett's profile to read more poems