Thank God For Cala Morell

I wouldn’t know what it is to swim below a giant elephant shaped rock

I wouldn’t remember how to feel gross, sweaty, dirty, completely alive in my body, my calves aching for a rock I can stand on in the sea, but kicking instead to keep myself afloat and far from shore, just to get a better view of you

I wouldn’t know the last bus leaves at 7:05 from the fork in the road before the roundabout.

I wouldn’t know the water is usually colder and deeper in the North of the island.

I wouldn’t be aware of my heart slowing down and speeding up with the temperature, like a lizard sunning itself on a rock.

I wouldn’t know the road to LaVall, full of time, leads to Cala Morrel, the host of the world

It defiantly says I’m here and I’m beautiful

But softens itself when you enter and gives you an ear with any creature you desire

I wouldn’t know how to speak directly to God this way, in it’s giant loving cathedral of stone, without it’s slow manipulation around my ears, flooding them with light

I wouldn’t know Mediterranean breasts were perfectly round delights there for beholding, brown nipples fading into tan skin or be able to witness the beautiful men naked with black hair wading in from the rocks

Or the comfort of my spine against red stone

every pore of my skin finding it’s dust and pebbles and pockets of air

reminding me of all the hard work I’ve done just to end up like rock

stoic and motionless and silent before the tidal shifts

I wouldn’t know my future teachers would call me home

Me running

sleeping with Cala Morell somewhere lodged between my left lung and heart

giving myself breathlessly to it’s indigo waters

in all that I do

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I study my own experience and document it through poetry, observation and prose. I’m in a constant state of rebirth, looking into the soul of the new earth.

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Kyla Coy

Kyla Coy

I study my own experience and document it through poetry, observation and prose. I’m in a constant state of rebirth, looking into the soul of the new earth.

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