The day you found the seal skin on the beach,
you called to me to look. You stared
at the folded stinking mess of it:
the jilted flippers, the serrated fur, the tear
where it was pulled from its body.
You did not know my longing for the sea.
I bent to stroke it, ran my fingers
over the blooded blubber, weighing
half-human in my arms.
I wrapped myself into its comfortable wetness.
Turning to look at you with my new
black eyes, I slipped back
into the rocking waves – the way a hand
slips once, and quietly, from a sleeping form.
‘The Find’ was commended in the 2015 Ware Poets Open Poetry Competition