What colour is the sea? He asks.

 

I am seven years old.

​

​The colour of blue. I say.

​

Dearest Father,

Do you remember back along,

when the sun shone golden and time was an interminable straight line, scored deeply onto paper?

Most probably blue. Certainly indelible.

Unwavering at first; fixed with an earnest focus and intent.

A shift in pressure, almost imperceptible.

Almost.

The slackening of flesh. A slippage.

A blue stain bleeding into clean.

​

 

Series of 42 Polaroids and watercolour. 2021.