a wing
over a dark sea
looking up from what you’re doing
what you’re not doing
looking up
seeing
what I don’t see
or the same thing
altered
when I was eight
I cut my foot on a sea shell
blood is red sea water
put a shell to your ear
you’ll hear your own blood
howling in the night of your body
but you’ve heard that before
let me tell you another
when I was twelve I had my first wank
afterwards I felt anxious and guilty
as if everyone knew
as if they could hear the blood
still surging through me
dragged by a mad moon
neither of us are looking now
maybe we weren’t looking in the first place
the light is changing
a sea mist Photoshops out
the sea
the sky
the beach
you
James Knight 
I didn’t – after first reading – but after the second reading I enjoyed it. “Photoshops” was the sole reason for my early dismissal. I thought about why I didn’t like that word and realized it is no different from my references to letterpress or having read 1960s verse that reference mimeographs. I prefer things archaic: Photoshops will be archaic soon enough.
Thank you for reminding me.
i like this poem.
I didn’t – after first reading – but after the second reading I enjoyed it. “Photoshops” was the sole reason for my early dismissal. I thought about why I didn’t like that word and realized it is no different from my references to letterpress or having read 1960s verse that reference mimeographs. I prefer things archaic: Photoshops will be archaic soon enough.
Thank you for reminding me.
I like this poem.
Interesting. Thanks Sean. The Photoshop reference is also a nod to the accompanying image.