girl-children of the coast See, it was summer back then.
My skin was sticky with sweat
and my mouth, with your gloss.
I remember thinking, innocently
that your mouth looked better.
I was young and pliant,
the sand where you were the ocean –
ever indomitable and brave;
brave enough to kiss me first,
putting the taste of salt on my tongue.
You called me mermaid,
once and twice and thrice,
laughing with that bold hear of yours,
but I was the lonely rock,
every day sinking inch by inch on you.
We were both girl-children of
the coast, lazy beneath the sun,
but where you challenged it,
daring to be brighter and louder,
I just soaked on it, soaked on you.
Isadora Azevedo is a fifteen-year-old girl and Brazilian poet who delves into the themes of her nationality, how girlhood feels like and love of all kinds. She can be reached through her twitter @isadorando_
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