ii. As light twines to dark a shell spiralling into itself, a narrowing submerged life, a wave ruffling over its summit to a tunnel of Styrofoam grey, saltmarsh leeching the plastic sheen from water, mud, silt, clay, the square hunkering of Heysham 2 a blunt battery against Black Combe mourning the spin of afterglow. Sarah Hymas iii. iv. |