Scarlette Eden Keeling

On the bohemian beaches of Goa
There I die.
Scarred my spirit faltered
Like my feet on soft sand
My skin decorated with intricate patterns of yellow
As drugged intentions
Entered me
High on fantasy.

On the bohemian beaches of Goa
There I die.
The salt water floods my nostrils
Calloused hands bite my skin
Blue green red panic plea
While romance slept
Tucked under her down fluff
I became cold meat for breakfast.

On the bohemian beaches of Goa
There I die.
swaying palms, warm waters, blistering suns,
bronzed skins, hookas, trance, textures
Tattoos, morality, colour, corruption, ego.
On the gentle waves of the Arabian sea
Under the ethereal light of the moon
There I set sail for another world.

10th April 2008