she came home suddenly / nic sebastian

twenty years she spoke
spare speech
in the desert twenty years
wearing white garments
as skin
the liquid syllables
of home the moist onslaught
of sea wind
on naked skin
but when a place is your place
it tucks itself into you
tattoo ink stigmata
and the ink is alive
and your tattoo sleeps it
sleeps then it
and the singing ink
reminds you
your place in red ache
is still calling
(on the sea wall again
her bare body drank
it drank and she said bless me
for I have sinned

Nic Sebastian has two sons and travels widely. Her work has appeared in Valparaiso Poetry Review, Lily, Autumn Sky Poetry, Mannequin Envy, Poems Niederngasse, Avatar Review, Anti– and tongues of the ocean. Nic blogs at Very Like A Whale.