A note to my islandpublished: 2010-01-05
You tease me. You turn your winds and they now carry with them an army of wasps; soldiers of sand flies that feed on the dampness of my eyes. Your sea is bloated and frustrated. Its currents sway from left to right, causing turmoil in the sand that lies beneath which rises, colours its blue in a muddy hue. You are telling me to leave, that's what you are doing. Go, you say, if you really must. Then go. You are unforgiving in your judgement of me. But I will return. Again, and again. If only to prove you wrong.