A Great Place for Kissing

The lighthouse really would be the perfect place

if you had someone to kiss:

candy-cane column

wedged into craggy rocks,

tall waves growling

then backing off

when the reply

is solid and silent.

Lolly loves it here.

Lucy ruffles the dog’s fur.

Her arms are goosebumpy.

The sky is overcast,

rumbling in argument with itself.

Feels like you could get eaten alive,

swallowed up, I say.

A seagull squawks

and inches towards the ocean.

I will the water to cover me,

take me to the sea

and hold me down until

everything is silent.

Until time has mended the world.

My boyfriend broke up with me, Lucy says suddenly.

Went off with my best mate Kate.

I already guessed.

Found her bus pass in his coat. Slag.

Oh. I’m sorry. Do you miss him?

She laughs.

Nah.

He looks like a ferret.

It’s my mate I lost.

She stares at her hands,

pauses and shouts, Lolly!

In seconds the dog is beside us –

wet and gasping.

You stink. She reattaches his lead.

Did you talk to your boyfriend like that? I ask.

Cos if you did, maybe he was right to

run off with someone else.

She side-eyes me

and I realise she isn’t Sophie or Jacq,

who could take any joke

you hurled at them.

I better go. She stands.

I’m at the beach hut a lot

after school

if you wanna come over.

You not got anywhere to be? she asks.

The tide is rising.

I’m a siren, I say. I’ve got sailors to drown.

I sit by the lighthouse for a long time,

allow the water to drench me.

I am cold.

I am alone.

I am unkissed.