Found

by April Bradford

I inhale the sticky air.
A kookaburra laughs at me.
Memories rattle, erasing
the good. Backhanded
             words weave cobwebs
                of honeydew resin
           around my ribs,
    cinched with dew drops.
Viridian wasteland,
no shelter nestled
beneath skeletal limbs.
Sink into nature’s ­comfort
until the undergrowth bites.
Ingest sunlight, sweat and green
             ants. Crushed  
lemon crawls on my tongue.
I wake to laughter.

April Bradford (she/her) is a UQ Creative Writing graduate. She works as an intern editor at Hunter Publishing and freelances on the side. Her writing currently features in the Toronto zine, Sapphic. Her irregularly updated Instagram is @april_elisabet.