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TALACRE
                when we veered off the dissolving path
to chance uncertain territory. High dunes

like hills of sugar, so smooth we lost whole feet
but found ourselves again, defied dense sky

by making our own light. We followed
the roaming fence and, like the rabbits

squirting over marram, were never caught out.
We reached a new country, the sea

at first too far and blocked by swerving
channels – mercury in the dimness –

but we weren’t afraid to innovate,
rolling up trousers for running jumps,

splatting down with a squelch to write names
in the sand amongst the casualties

of starfish, bladderwrack. Messy letters,
our fingers digging past the first resistance,

our only witnesses the wind turbines way out –
a sleepy, inaudible crowd, two so close

to each other from our perspective we swore
they must have inhabited the same dream.