capsule holiday

I fled south
to world’s edge;
packed up my lingering malaise and
my sunscreen
and hit the highway
before I’d even passed exit 19
– my old haunt – 
I felt calmer
stronger;
behind my Wayfauxrers, I sang off-key
duets with Alex Turner
and skipped across two lanes of traffic to pause
at the famous pie shop
and finally the whirring of my brain
as it churned through passing fancies and
imagined slights and
foolish disappointments
ceased to cause such pain.

At the beach I delighted
in my anonymity,
shedding my defences.
The sea welcomed me back.
In the afterglow, I settled in the shade
the water spread below me
and opened a new book.

As the sea turned grey
I turned for home,
lungs full of salt air and sand
along my jawbones;
feeling human again.

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