Sinking faster than fishing line weights
Caught in the sandbar off the beach at high tide
Thrown away like burley
Faster than the quick eye of a silver bream.
Memories of our worst dialogue invade the air around
Crashing like shards of glass
Filling it with illogical sparks of my reductionist absurdity.
I sat in the Opera House forecourt eating sorbet
Running my tongue over each colour change
And still I wasn’t satisfied