my body is nothing but ocean
and vivid black sky and i feel whole
she is somewhere floating behind me
solid and present while i am
nothing but liquid stars
she reaches for me and i sink into the womb
everything is illusive.
Senses are no longer
The wind will read your palm like a dessert menu.
Your blood will be determined, though not by
letter but by norm.
Chink of green glass ‘chin-chin’ under
mosquito-hive canopy, and the sky above
is just really big. We have a clear dusk.
Sip the Jesus juice and sit in silence
for the sacrament.
she likes to be cosy
not warm but
In Footscray now; people in soft-focus and wrapped in silk. Asphalt melts, sticks to my boot.13 February 2018