Visual memory

The husband opened his eyes wider

He needed to comprehend his wife’s beauty

His mind’s eye needs to see her as clearly as he can now

Every fleck of her eye

The line of her nose

The contours of her lips

All needed to be etched into permanence.

He was scared that someday it would be forgotten

He was scared as to how it would be forgotten

He imagined chiseling each feature into sculptor’s stone

This will take time, but masterpieces so often do.

“Why are you staring at me?” she asked, before walking off.

The Life of a Crab

Sideways, sideways; always sideways.

Sideways is a essential for a goalkeeper, or a boon for a farmer working the seabed, but I’m a salesman;

Sideways enslaves me to the horizontal. Yes, I don’t have to turn 90 degrees when squeezing past people, I can sidle past

Sideways. But when you have the Atlantic Ocean to contend with, space is not a problem.

Sideways stops me cuddling my crablets when they have a cut to their claw.

Sideways prevents me from scuttling into the arms of my amore.

Sideways on stairs is not straightforward. Yes, we’re not fazed on a skyscraper’s ledge, as we slide

Sideways by default; but we also don’t have the height to be able to see how far up we are.

Sideways isn’t a choice that we make, but a lifestyle we are forced into

Sideways. This may be mordant, but being a crab means you learn to see the world slightly

Sideways.