'The Sea Within My Room Last Night'

A sea paid a visit to my bedroom last night;

I felt myself brave to dip my skin up to the elbow.

And sure, cold pressure welcomed it –

And I forged a hardy friendship with its cause.

The waters themselves were calm awhile,

Up and down –

Conducting at my breath.

The liquid glove bore half a hand –

Some segment of a mind.

Its ripples seemed to wink up my disdain.

It had its reasons for presence in mind –

Washing my clothes – this brackish ego

Gently rinsing the wound of its salt

With irritant far less palpable.

Falling on again – the rhythm chided my conformity.

It breathed as I did, for as long as I was looking –

Chest and shapes of liquid

Waltzing in lockstep for the Frilled Sharks’ saline disco.

The stomach sank when a toe collided with one’s wheaten rubber flesh –

But when she passed me with her pup –

I wished her nothing but the best.

And the rest –

I could not, but stay and help myself –

For the sake of my little sea’s protest.

This poem is by Cait Roddam Jones. She is a seventeen-year-old actor, writer, and musician. She has trained with the UK’s National Youth Theatre before going on to work with Shakespeare’s Globe in London. The recurring themes within Cait’s poetry stem from issues close to her heart, such as intersectional feminism, mental health, and the trials and tribulations that come with being an artist. Her biggest literary inspirations include Sylvia Plath, Emily Dickinson, and Emily Brontë.