HT

'20

Harbours always remind me of Porto Ottiolu in the summer of
2007 or thereabouts when I was young enough to walk
Topless and barefoot all that skin exposed to the delicious
Sardinian sun and the men would not look bar a few. I held
The hand of a parent i would lose one day soon.
Blissful naïveté reflected in her wise waters-, the harbour’s- she
Licked the sidewalk sometimes my ankles sea salt clinging to a child’s glowing softness that
was just the
crisp
summer dance of Porto Ottiolu.

* poem by Kiran Armanasco, Art by Skye Humbert

  • Spotify
  • Instagram
  • Facebook