rain in marrickville, windows of the bus filmed with heat &
metaphysics, long list of regrets dragged behind your body like
the remnants of every shirt you ever owned, rag trade, street
signs, systemic un-becomings you acknowledge as you fall
asleep, orgasm-damp curls between your thighs, fingers
keeping your place, waiting for you to start again, inescapable
tradition you spend days reinventing, a kind of shuffle, mild
anxieties & the sheer exhaustion of it, a mood that isn’t
sadness
but shares its timbre emerges from your skin, frame built from
the metaphors you wanted to avoid but couldn’t, not answers,
other questions, technologies of living with a lighter touch,
hand brushing hairs on your lover’s distant arm or your face
considered dispassionately, a physiognomy you entertain then
carefully discard, wrapped in motion, suspended, each breath a
little easier, faint taste of grief to embrace, streetlights,
marrickville, bus moving through the rain.
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