beachside caravan park by Beth Phillips

ocean dances like the dirt bike on ridgacre road,

lustful and longing and silent at noon.


ocean pulls at my feet, collecting heavy steps

and heartbreak for children to play with.


ocean watches parents argue over where the wind

catcher should go, whose turn is it to collect change,

who will end up on the sofa later.


ocean tells me I’m funny, cutting through waves

to remember the way you couldn’t swim.


ocean takes me to your favourite beach

where we got swallowed by the wind,

you a little taller than the night before.


I think ocean wants to drown me, take me

by the throat to forget. forget the way

that sand tastes, forget how joy is a slow

burner, forget the way we would be back

in a year.

Follow Beth on Instagram and Twitter at @ragdollbeth. Follow Beth’s literary magazine on Instagram at @lemoncurdmagazine.

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