I am escaping
to the blue water
the sun ripening
my back
peach flecked
the sizzleness
of burning sand
forcing me to hop
like a gold medal athlete
with the cameras turned off
such is the un-coolness
of my contorted face
under this effort
and duress
i'll be there soon
three leaps to liquid
and the swish- swash
of the tide
ahhhh
this edged splendour
of a scarred land
i want to love
but cannot
its defined history
is scrawled
by hate
i have to walk back now