She of the dark hair
We’re writing secret notes to each other and sticking them on each other’s binders.
The teacher side-eyes us while commenting on how ‘lesbianism’ is bad.
He thought of his wicked tutor Dan, those evil ticket inspectors, those bothersome essays. Such a cold and uncaring world. But then he paused. He stopped and he thought. How he wished he could leave, pursued by no care. But he did care. He now cared for this world. He thought of Chloe, his friendship, the laughter and joy. He thought of Professor David and the comedy show he performed. Such warmth and love this world did possess. ‘Twas a mingled yarn, with good and ill together.24 October 2018
For the last six breakfasts, Annina has eaten bread with jam—a meal that tastes the same everywhere in the world— but today she can’t see either ingredient. The man behind her gives her an impatient nudge and Annina reaches for a strange yellow fruit at the edge of a platter. She tears the banana away from its identical siblings and holds it limply in her hand. It’s crescent-shaped with rubbery skin, like nothing she’s ever seen before. In her impoverished village, where a single orange is a recurring Christmas gift, tropical fruits are beyond a novelty; they’re nonexistent.24 October 2018
Close your eyes and accept the tug. Crunch the numbers and you’ll be safe. But the tangible dangers of collision aren’t what I distrust. It is the stasis of what it lacks that makes me uneasy. It will always be an eerie pull that I can only see in my messy calculations, only existing inside my head.25 September 2018
When the memories flood through her skin
like milk – when you pour it into porridge,
Her world melts.
Listening to X only after he’s dead
Capitalising on vintage Woolworths’ plastic bags
Remixing washed out lo-fi vinyls from Savers
I took aim, and released.
Mushroom clouds snapped apart;
a wafer-thin crunch,
a child treading on dry leaves,
dust gliding aimlessly against light.