Perspiring mists seep into
exposed skin at the shore’s brow.
Speech argues with the folds
in a forehead.
pause at the cliff’s edge,
sending skidding rocks
that announce the distance
to the waves.
Their imprint dissipates
beneath steely lacerations of wind
and pouncing seagulls with greedy beaks snatch the sounds that rear
Fat rain falls through the heavy silences they tear
in the seaside yarn
between our coasts.
Ilona Phillips is currently an MA Student in Arabic and Farsi literature in London. You can find her tentative forays into writing at https://email@example.com. Her poetry is written for her mother, who taught her to read for the flavours of love.