Dune and Gloom by b. pick
Blue tidepools fill the morning sunrise as you rehearse verse 147
From memory and as I wipe a gentle smudge of lipstick
Off the corner of my open mouthed grin, I note that
The Atlantic is the same shade as your almond eyes.
Your hair is the same shade of gold as the
Gentle dunes you grew up next to -- although your curls mirror mine.
Those fragile dunes took thousands of years of circumstance
Fate in the form of wind currents
Fate in the form of waves perfectly timed to tear apart sentiments and sediments
Fate forgotten in moments as
An absent mother and her mindless child
Ignore the signs warning them not to climb.
You laugh and remark that perhaps
In the amount of time that humankind takes to evolve out stupidity
In the Darwin Effect taking its toll on a species
With no regard for
Feats of love
Feats of nature
Only existing through feats of ignorance,
Perhaps those dunes might grow as mountainous as the swelling around our hearts.
But we won’t know --
All we see is broken down piles of sand and seashells
All destroyed in one moment by
Feet and ignorance.
b. pick is a lesbian poet and creative non-fiction author. They are an Hon. BA candidate in English at Western University, where they work as a Copy Editor for the Western Gazette. When they’re not writing, b. can be found cuddled up with a cup of herbal tea and their French bulldog, Colette. They have most recently been featured in SAPPHIC, Tipping the Scales, and Grubstreet Journal. You can find them on Twitter at @_bpick, or Instagram at @b__pick.