written by Bea Basa. Bea (they/she) is a third-year Classics, English and History major at UCD. A Filipino-
born native of North Dublin, she adores art in all its forms, though is partial, particularly to the visual and written. They like to write during the little free time they have, and—like many—use it as an outlet for emotion. She enjoys and encourages liberal use of the em dash. When not engaging with their discipline, you will often find them over-analysing video game narratives.

I sit, sometimes, and think of the sea
and what awaits in its frightening deep;
fears, unspeakable fears
and the jaws of the uncertain.

but as I feel the warmth of your hand in mine
—clamminess and all—
I remember the beauty
that is just as undiscovered

among seaweed and seashells, debris, and detritus
we wander a shoreline
of vast unknown.
a journey of uncertain proportions—
unanchored and unrelenting.

yet as the waves lap gently at our feet
I cannot help but think:
I wonder how the tide feels?
ᅠI wonder if it knows your name?
ᅠᅠI wonder if it knows how lovely it is— how lucky it must be to hear you laugh?

you tell me about the expanses
of unexplored ocean
and what marvels must lay beneath—

but, as if tangled in the whirlwind clutches of Charybdis,
I find myself enthralled only
by your presence.

like sea-water swallowing my frail frame
a sudden surge of courage
envelops my lungs

(I may as well
have drowned.)

long gone are the unforgiving winds of before;
as I turn to you, I find
that only yours remain.

and as I am carried across your currents
a realisation rings
like a sweet, Siren song:
You are my truest love.

You are.

You are.

Image by Edie Weinstein. Edie Weinstein is currently working towards completing a Joint Honours degree in English and Linguistics at UCD. She is the author of Grandpa and Lucy: A Story about Love and Dementia and is a proud advocate of dementia education. A native of Saint Paul, Minnesota, she moved to Dublin in 2021 and has since fallen in love with the city (although sometimes she misses her dog, Scout). When Edie isn’t studying, she can be found reading in cafés, playing her trumpet, perusing art galleries, exploring Dublin with her film camera, or sea swimming at the Forty Foot.

CategoriesIssue VIII