Icebreaker

I like the raw relief of the skies spit, followed by graceless stomps into puddles 
I don’t like the sticky heatstroke of feet sinking into sand and exhaust melting down my spine. 

I like bringing my love, her cherished morning coffee, in exchange for honey-coloured winks 
I don’t like the cost of a public handhold – abrupt gratuitous input from a stranger. 

I like subtly communicating my soul and my story with forever art staining my skin 
I don’t like a room of glowing eyes focused on every clumsy mistake and stumble I inevitably make. 

I like misunderstood deep-sea creatures and the colossal unknown, teal tide tugging at my curiosity.
I don’t like grains of beige, littering my shoes, a trail of sand to shout the route of wherever I go. 

Featured photo by Dương Hữu on Unsplash.