A poem called ‘Sea’. It reads: Is there ever a moment when you are still / stop moving, in your entirety // part shade, part light / torn to pieces, refigured eternally // I imagine you coming at this scab / we call an island, and not knowing it. // The edge of you / which is not edge, like skin // held to land’s light / glints upon a rib of sand, a foot // easing substance from the shore— / I wonder, is this where it starts // your beginning your end / as with drawn out breath // the moon sucks your sheet, begs you / leave this place for a moment naked.