• Silky waves caress his skin, he rises
    as his hair flows around his face, he yawns.
    The roar crashes from his sore mouth
    breaking against his teeth.

    Limbs waver.
    Lithe arms sway
    In a stretch, legs firm,
    rooted into his woollen rug

    Sandy stubble inhabits his face.
    Scratching , it sticks under his nails
    like grit
    dry against his tongue.

    The Island Man has risen, once again.