We’re at the rock pools again. 

 

You’re bothering anemones

putting your hand to your mouth

to taste the salt

 

Like licking the shiny side

of a crisp packet

 

We talk

about the old sea

 

The sea from before 

 

and how it used
to keep its distance

 

I have never been so afraid

of my body breaking

 

Now

you hold out soft white stones, 

millions of other, smaller bodies 

Compressed 

 

Coccoliths, I say

You lisp it back to me, 

labouring over the t, 

the h 

 

Chalk dust paints
your hands translucent

Thick eyelashes,
layered 

Like rows of shark’s teeth 

And I think
of the bodies recycling,
calcium cuttlefish bones
being pecked apart by budgerigars ∎

 

Words by L Hankins. Art by Nat Cheung.