There is a boy who speaks in rain at arrivals.
He has time in this world
where the rockpooled minnow
flashes silver seconds.
We follow the funeral and I try to say
‘I am sorry I am not afraid of you’ but I cannot lie,
or forgive the recurrent ghost;
I cannot learn his lesson.
In this dream there is guilt but not enough of it.
I will not die on this hill
but I am freezing beautiful
to an accidental death.
With the moon hanging over the park as the sea, I kissed it
and cried twice
to make it real.

AMELIA AVERIS  is a writer and journalist from Jersey, Channel Islands. She was highly commended by judges of the Passionfruit Review “Here and Now” contest, and also appears in Heimat, Tiger Moth Review, Palette Poetry, and Prosetrics. The organs of her poems can be found in her decade of journals, where she explores themes of longing, loss, beauty, and memory. Her chapbook as the ink birds split the sunset with Alien Buddha Press is on Amazon. You can find more Amelia at https://ameliaaveris.journoportfolio.com.