BO(Y)TANICAL

here’s part of a cover of a nice gay song that i can’t be bothered finishing bc i got bored and the instrumental is 2 loud for my weak lil voice. let’s pretend the bad sound quality means it’s deliberately lo-fi and not just bad recording equipment shall we

1. white fence and dark carpets a cot in an empty room reaching through bars and sitting in baskets

2. an unfinished dream huts made from bracken and thoughts carved in wattle trunks a bubbling stream and a small dam skirted with reeds moss-covered stones; damp, persistent petrichor some old steps and ashen remains in a forbidden clearing a holly tree and blackberry bushes a dash of yellow paint and skeleton walls, long corridors and high ceilings and an old stove and a piano saved from a burning house

3. bees on flowers and snakes beneath the garden path honey coloured wood, a loft, a flimsy ladder a walk-in wardrobe for a bedroom, a bed spray painted blue a mirror set in white and a spider on the staircase days spent in dappled sunlight on the kitchen floor nights spent surrounded by enya and loreena mckennitt (soft tales of highwaymen and painting the sky) a car accident on a long night; a crying toddler and a broken foot

night brings silver light upon the surface of the sea; waves whisper lilting verses to the shore through the darkness and not too far off, in a cottage of stone with windows glowing yellow and soft, a child listens and understands. their hair is wild and their eyes are tired and they know nothing but the words the breakers call, calling to them and promising safety within their lullabies. come, over the sand, beneath the salt. you’re safe here.

wood is soft beneath the child’s feet, worn from decades of salt spray and covered with lichen. sand is warm and welcoming between their toes and the ocean is tangible, closer as they move faster, closer, faster, closer, stop. here she is, the sea – she speaks calmer and the child breathes easier as the water swells to their ankles and tugs. come, beneath the salt. be safe. knees, hips, waist, calmer, calmer. lullabies or incantations in the ocean’s words, a melding of flesh and bone together, calm. passages of light filter silver and quivering through the surface upon the selkie’s head. the ocean speaks around them and through them: you are safe here.