Little Nipper

First published in fourW anthology thirty-two, Nov 2021

for Emily, my partner | Alexandra Headland

We breastroke fifty metres out. I fall

out of pace with the pack

The dawn breeze shifts, a whistle

shrills and I’m caught dead

last—floating in oblivion

Bloated clouds start to spit. I feel a sizzle

like dry ice hissing up my thighs, brand

my belly and back. A smack

of jellyfish twines my swim togs, laces

my body from ankles to ribs

in thin purple ribbons. Agony coils

my nerves as the sunrise is sliced open

by a banshee’s scream—an SOS

I’ll be curled up, rinsing my white-hot skin

on the club shower tiles before I recognise

that animal scream’s mine.