I washed up with the early morning tides,
Braided hair like coarse leather.
Dressed in seaweed and perfume of sweet mist.
There was no lifeguard on duty
For he was allergic to the
Hibiscus that grew along
The quick sand tourist trail.
No one dared to save me,
They've had enough practice giving
Mouth to mouth to a mannequin.
Salt caked my eyelids and I struggled
To see any sign of life,
Any musical notes written for the blind.
