30 January 2014


You were that feeling of sand between my toes

Grainy and warm and the feeling of home

But the sun got high and you turned hot

Burning my feet to unbearable lot

Then the wind came and you made me cry

Wind whipping my hair with you in my eye

At last it rained and I saw you for what you are

My idea of paradise, but ideas can only go so far

I had my period yesterday, so I took the less destructive route and wrote a poem while in the throes of pain. I'd rather not be allergic to painkillers, though.