A twist of tears, like a blue bag in a crisp packet.
Breast, sea-salt sore, rubbing
at its shore line.
No baby’s lips to draw down
the swell but milkless tit.
Shoulder, pummelled, hot needled like sun burn,
sitting clogged, heavy on the ocean floor.
A thousand nerve endings swimming,
jangling loose like a jelly fish sting
from a raw and sodden heart,
shivering in grief.