by Jax Bulstrode
peeling mandarins on your bedroom floor the whole room swaying with laughter and the evening breeze a storm rolling in and potatoes in the oven she is telling me about the bird on her arm blackened and eyes open staring back at me how do we start again? with the colours okay, the purple skyline outside the window cool static glow from the tv now, the scent of the cool rain coming and sound my favourite part her voice beside me calling my name Jax Bulstrode writes poems in Naarm/Melbourne. She is usually writing about rivers or fruit or being queer. Jax has been published in Anti-Heroin Chic Journal, F*EMS and is forthcoming in Southchild Lit, Just femme & dandy and Enby life. You can find them at @jaxbulstrode on Twitter.
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January 2025
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