The Pilbara

I walk to the water for a more poetic place to weep

Drenched in deet my feet still itch from midgie bites I got last week

The moonlit ocean, the stars above, their romance interrupted

Bright lights, long row of mining boats come for men and iron ore

The silence goes, the hum is low of progress creeping forward

Here where the desert meets the sea, the very edge of the land

I come to stand on tip toe, to be as small as a grain of sand

But my horizon’s been hemmed in by boats that block my great expanse,

I sigh I sit but no tears come,

I hug my knees

I see someone

“Evening,” he nods as he passes, “I won’t interrupt your solitude.”

“Nah you right mate,” I answer, “Plenty of room.”

“Existential crisis?” he sits but not too close.

“Speak for yourself,” I say,

“Just admiring Rio Tinto’s Christmas Lights display”

He chuckles, I grin, the moon’s full, tide’s in

I see the shadows we cast in the sand

I see him peel off his shirt and stand

At the water’s edge he stops

He dives in, I follow until my toes no longer reach the ground

We meet in the deep, treadin water, talkin shit, muckin round

Then I take a deep breath, duck dive down

Up for air nearby “Shut your eyes” I say “I’ve got something for you”

Into his held out hands I place my shorts, shirt, bra and undies too.

Then down I dive again,


There is water above me below me all around me maybe this is the closest I can get to flying

I swim to where I can stand with sea all over my skin up to my shoulders

I stand still smiling naked waiting and shivering not from cold as

He swims to me, stands so close I can feel his breath and it’s warm

“Thanks,” his face says to my face, “But they’re not really my size.”

“Where’s my Christmas prezzie then?” I tease, he says “Well close your eyes,”

I stand still smiling naked and shivering wet waiting with my eyes closed when

His lips land on my forehead and stay there and they’re warm,

and I breath in and out

I nudge his neck with my nose, he draws back and kisses the corner of one eye and then the other and his lips on my skin is the softest nicest loveliest thing

I stand still and wet and let him kiss my cheek, my ear then our noses nuzzle

Our eyes closed

Our breath going out and in

Finally I say “Well, is that it?” and instantly his hands hold my face his mouth on mine tasting tongues dancing some kind of push pull tango. My hands grip and pull his warm chest to mine til there is no water left between us. He guides my thighs up and around his waist then down so that the place where I can feel my heart pumping blood the most can feel him harden as our tango quickens.

‘Just float,’ he says and lays me on my back and pulls me gently by the ankles to the shallows, cool water lapping between my legs.

His shoulders now under my knees, then his hands now holding my hips, then his neck now between my thighs.

All the blood in my entire body is drawn down now and my heart is beating faster now, with my hair splayed out in the water and my eyes scrunched shut now, my hands clenched in fists now, I lie there for a million years… then

The universe contracts and expands

Warm cool, hard soft, slow fast, frantic, clumsy, graceful, balanced

Gripped caressed, kissed sucked

Opened held, fondled fucked

Breath whimpering held then breath expelled, moaning loud

Then we collapse in a wet sweaty sandy mess, the only sound

Is the water lapping softly at the sand on which we lie

On our backs we look up at that big expanded sky

It seems so much bigger now, with infinitely more stars

We tell made up stories about how they got where they are

I shed everything and nothing in that big ocean that night

I walked home wet wearing his shirt and his hand held tight



Dear Readers,

This’ll be the last of the erotic bush poems for a while. The real-life dating stories will return soon though. Tonight I head off to the very last contrived dating event I may ever go on, purely because it’s the only one I haven’t been to yet. Silent Speed Dating. Apparently this entails non-verbal communication, learning how to ‘read frequencies’ and yoga. It’ll either be amazing, weird, hilarious or all three. I’m also going to be signing up for the only dating site I haven’t tried yet – Tinder. I’m guessing it’ll also be amazing, weird and hilarious. 

Thanks for sticking with me through the little literary experiment that is erotic bush poetry.

Hope y’all are gettin’ some,



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