by Maria Bonar
Delicate, feminine
adorned with sparkling sand
and shell grit
A flotilla of tiny shells
like babies’ fingernails
cling to you
When the tide surges
you become your own coracle
float on the waves, upside down
wedded to a homemade bubble
raft. A bluebottle drifts by,
attracted to your serene beauty
your rasping tongue traps him
in a deadly kiss. You float
together until he is consumed.
- Mullaloo Beach, WA