First published in the Writers Victoria Writability Anthology ‘The Streets are Darker Without Me Here’
You
press my
skeleton to your
flesh when you long
to hear a mouthful of home.
Buried in the blood pools and sea
glass, impressions splinter into grit.
Embedded not in motion but vibration
primed to echo your delight. Sculpted
by the shifting winds buffered by imperfect
spirals. A procured pearlescence refracting
shadows in direct light a cradle to the soft
bodied. Be tender with this mortal frame
as you trace fractures of a fossil
that could not be traded. Thrust
to the fire transparent
you will see my veins
and pallor are no
different to yours.
Lean in, these
whispers
leak my
story.