Migrations

by Charlotte McConaghy

I lie in the sea and feel more lost than ever, because I’m not meant to be homesick, I’m not meant to long for the things I have always been so desperate to leave. It isn’t fair to be the kind of creature who is able to love but unable to stay.

I hold him, I wrap myself about him. If I make of myself a thick enough shell then I will keep him safe; if I fuse myself to his skin, if I am needed, then surely we can’t be parted.

overwhelmingly so. It claims command of an entire wintry world, the