On Bondi Beach

​The zinc on my lips is cracked.
 
This earthquake, this evil Vesuvius,
Has swallowed my azure memories,
Unending days of sun and sand and salt.
 
The ocean is my tears,
Washed into rock pools with the tide,
Where a tiny octopus attests to life and color and motion.
 
Human consciousness wears black today,
Feels brittle as a charred body inside,
But it exists, as surely as the universe, and the vibrant crests of new waves.
 
Upon hearing of the tragedy on Bondi Beach on 14.12.2025, my childhood playground.
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