Sarah Peters3 October 2016
Beveridge begins with a sunrise of colours that melt across the page, however the middle half of her collection felt gloomy and the divide between Wolf Notes and Storm and Honey was strong and jarring. But to watch her poems adapt and to feel a sense of accomplishment, that’s something I want to learn from.
Kiss her shoulders with peach lipstick on, remind the skin
to soften. On the new day that we have here, the sun
comes out more often.
When the memories flood through her skin
like milk – when you pour it into porridge,
Her world melts.
But I could do it, you know?
Take the banksia in my hands and
vase it, for the chance
of sucking honey from the world
as we bow to one another.
I’m entranced by lighting stores
imagining our kitchen
and how it would feel when one day
you were home.
Holding doors open for
people, hoping they’ll open too
and embrace her,
Talk to her, thank her.
I haven’t been kissed in so long.
When everyone is tucked
between bedsheets stuffed with
love and honeycomb (because
When the world has constantly been exposed to the likes of Instagram poets, it can be incredibly difficult to find poignant writing that delivers something else, a level of almost distress, tinged with the encouragement to live out your life as best you can.
I’m strangely comforted by the hardcover casing of Darby Hudson’s WALK.
You sit with me
eating mandarins in the field of
sunflowers that hide us,
Spitting pips sucked on
back and forth.
she likes to be cosy
not warm but
Dyschronia is not a book I would have initially picked up, however upon reading it, it has opened new ways of considering the world for myself.
differentiating wasps and bees
and you find yourself defenceless.
I could fit a whole pinecone in my chest.
I think the stars are screaming honey.
I think I worked it out – why I admire and fear bees so much.
A short story by Sarah Peters on the similarities between a person and a sweat shirt.
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