Admit it. The pointlessness of what
you write. Sensitive waffle,
a girl who sings. Cut it out,
slap yourself in the face. Be straight
to readers. Rather than swollen words,
a cold inspection. Look, this photo:
an empty beach, evening. A woman, young,
seen from behind. Her vest the colour
of the sea. Sand on her shoulders,
salty hair up on top of her head,
pale light around her body. Quiet.
She’s got one week left.