This is a small selection of recent writing.

Strawberry Catharsis

Today I boiled berries 
sweet sticky stovetop 
alive with splatters. 
Sucrose!!! 
Big bubbles suckle saucepan walls, too 
hot too hot, burn my hand on berry sweat. 
Wooden spoon stained red, I rub the 
residue into my eyes. 
Tiny seeds seek moisture, drink my tears 
out. 
Pink blood on the walls,
jam in the fridge now.

Sleep Bees

I dreamt lung collapse 
resting respiratory revolt. 
Two tone polka dots swarming my dream 
vision. Big buzzing orb-bees 
I swallow them like air. 
Lungs swell and melt, 
my throat is sinking
into my neck 
a snake in the mud.
I tell myself 
I AM AWAKE through 
hypnogogic fog. 
The polka dot bees have settled into my 
skin 
sting. 
My lungs explode!!!! I wake 
with lips pressed against the spinning
bedside fan.

Galleria (groan)

Trapse trap through shopping centre 
Plodding groups spread themselves 
across maybe linoleum floor 
Slow oozing wound
Dystopian imagination built this place on 
hot ground. 
I sweat thinking about the outside world.
Bag nearly hits a man walking too close. 
Bodies aren’t meant to move
like this 
I square mine up, and make route for the 
bus home.

Dress Distress

---- Why am I wearing such strange skin? 
Femme dress on masc body is masc dress 
on my body.
Soft Armour
----Whose body is this?? 
Return to sender I
shove myself into the post box
Only one hand gets inside, nails snagging 
letters addressed to someone I’ve 
forgotten.

Waterbird Solo

Duck sleeps alone in 
CBD wetland. 
Pile of perfect feathers- 
where are your familiars? 
Is your slow, sloping bill 
a motion of loneliness?
I hope you are content, 
small bird. 
I hope what sadness I
feel from your hunching form is 
my own projected pain. 
I wish you a big green lake one day.
You will outgrow this 
concrete hole. 
Webbed feet like circus tents 
and feathers like sails and swords. 
Oh sad duck, powerful duck! 
I see your wings twitch miniscule shivers 
and imagine you flying away.

[DEL]

A rejection email challenges fragile grip 
on my own value. 
((I imagine their fingers on the keyboard)) 
Tapping my knuckles into soft mush.
Stretching, tired of trying to fit myself into 
the cracks between systems. 
---- Subsequent spillage.
My mother tells me she has always felt the 
same. Home nowhere but hungering 
connection to too much. 
Hunger silences me.
I am harbouring a lot of sadness. 
Drifting like a stone would drift through 
space. 
A stone made its home in my chest, I can’t 
get it out.
Shaking digits, I move the email to trash.

4

I dreamt of four bodies, and my own.
A body I begin to know 
I see this one soft but powerful 
You make me nervous, but I don’t know if 
it’s the good kind. 
You don’t touch me, or I you. 
I watch you kiss
A body I had known before. 
I said “I’m sorry I didn’t know how to touch 
you then” as your hand lay warm on my skin. 
I press down on your palm
I wanted 
this third body for my own. I envy 
sharp lines and smooth muscles. 
We are more similar than I know, insecurely 
I keep this body at a distance. You run angular 
fingers through silk-hair of
A body moving through the others like 
syrup. Too sweet but I drink it down by the jugful. 
Your arms firm around my waist, 
I used to know this body too. 
I remember this closeness, I inhale 
and you smell like my pillowcase.
Four bodies, and my own. 
I’ve never seen my own 
body in a dream, well.. I’ve never seen 
this body but 
maybe I have see mine.

Whilst being tattooed (dinosaur).

My feet are numb. 
I lie face down on cling-wrapped 
bench. 
---- If this shit only sticks to itself 
then ​why ​is it stuck to my face? 
Crinkled skin peaks-valleys 
mirrors its plastic shield.
I wonder if it will leave a mark? 
Will eyes meet eyes in 
mirror and glimpse face 
wrinkled and worn?
I pinch my skin and it stands in soft spikes 
stegosaurus spine across my forehead.
Cheek grows tired of its position in plastic
 ---- I roll over 
blood-rush back to feet, 
my skin self is still twenty three and suffering, 
and the stegosaurus is 
extinct again. 
I bring my other cheek down to 
meet the cling-wrapped bench.

Crucible Needles.

Needles actualise me. 
Buzz buzz tattoo shop, machine 
neon light show 
buzzing sun. 
Warmth makes grazes in my skin feilds. 
Buzz buzz baby! 
I’ll shave my head clean bald 
tomorrow.
Needles put love in my 
(skin) arms. 
Strike, strike through numbness 
(Administer numbness) 
General anaesthetic! 
Oh please!
Numb my shell and rectify 
it. Rectify 
this body. 
These 
… 
Parts. 
Apart. 
Needles bring me closer. 
Poke holes to fill void. 
Make marks to make peace. 
I can’t get home yet but, 
needles make home in haystacks until they are 
found.

Dream Chest.

I danced with a queer 
man’s body, and my own. 
Hands on his chest, 
shoulders, 
waist. 
What powerful want 
(he’ll never want this body) 
Muscles moving through 
shirt like tectonic plates 
on pangolin back. 
(I don’t want this body) 
This might be a queer man’s body 
dancing with queer man’s body 
but these bodies never touch away from 
drunken dance floor. 
(Don’t touch me) 
Touch me! 
I sleep remembering 
his flat chest, 
with my hands resting on my own.

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