dawn dawning dawned

soon this beach will be scattered with people but for now i have it just to myself. just me some birds some flies some wind, the sand the sea some trees and shells.

what i put out i get right back, so my energy wanes and explodes maybe where it’s not supposed to. i take a step the other way and recognise that day-to-day i should find something stronger. something less of an option and prioritise the heart that needs above the heart that wants.

yesterday they all reached out. yesterday home was on my mind. yesterday i needed them and they needed me and we needed each other so we found each other, like we know we can.

it’s early it’s morning i sit by the sea watching ripples and blueness and whitewash and waves [they don’t compare to the waves i left].

and i think.

until now i’d never seen hawaii in the summertime. i’d never felt the pull of the sun so high in such a blue sky. the power the vibes the heat.

i need to change my focus.

ocean blue

i walked along the beach this morning.

[i thought about you.]

i didn’t find a space, in all that sand, that someone hadn’t walked before me.

so i stopped stepping in footprints and tried to weave through, creating something of a path of my own.

and maybe one day i’ll leave footprints in the sand of your heart - and one day after that, they might carve the only trail. where the tides of time, or perhaps me, will wash clean the paths of all those loves who walked before.

i

i wriggle my toes into the sand. into the earth. into this island.

i stare at the ocean. the waves. their energy, continuity, fluidity. this magical place, bringing me home. talking me into living. speaking to my heart.

i hear all its wonderful sounds - the curl of the waves into wet sand, the silence that follows. the flittering leaves of the palm trees nearby, the wind against my ear as i turn my head so slightly.

i scratch at day-old mosquito bites.

i watch a surfer emerge safely onto shore, make the sign of the cross and look to the sky.

i take a photo for a couple, two beautiful men from england. they thank me for what appears to be the most generous offer they’ve ever received. no worries, i say, surprised at their graciousness.

i watch it all float by.

tell me yes.

it would be sunny for a lot of the day, but it would rain for bits. hot rain. we would be outdoors mostly, but indoors too. always alone.

at the beach, or near water somehow, a river, a lake, or a stream with a waterfall. there’d have to be a sunset - or a sunrise - we’d have absolutely no sleep at all.

we would laugh, a lot.
yeah.
that’s what we’d do.

nostalgia.

my chest just tightened when i thought about it.

my breath is leaving me anxious. i’m flooded with vivid memories of maui. that feeling i thought i’d filed subconsciously away just reemerged with a vengeance. i felt the air. the smell of the little hut i lived in…marijuana mixed with insect repellent and lavender.

the humidity and the burning sun and the sand stuck with sunscreen on my skin. the blandness of the water running over my mouth when i stood in that outdoor shower and washed the salt from my face. the sound of the creak in the gate, and the bang as it swung shut.

the heat of the nights.

the sprinklers on shopfronts that cooled me as i rode my bike down front street. the asphalt of the road on my toes as i stopped at stop signs. and dragging my thongs as i took off again. palm trees passing shadows over my body. the air-conditioning of grandma’s place. the big terracotta tiles under my feet in the kitchen, the darkness of the shower with the broken lights and heavy curtain. 

the shade of the banyan tree.

the coolness trapped between the mountains near the waterfalls near the winding roads. the dampness of the ground and the smell of wet dirt under bamboo plants so tall.

the feeling of my legs indented with marks from the swinging cane chair that hung from a palm tree, under the hut, next to the pool, at the place i called my home.

it hurts my chest to think about it.

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