by Courtney Rae
i could note the itch of the grey loveseat, or the sweat cooling at my hairline, but i know he wants the roots - no fine blooms and okayed blossoms - but i am barren in escape of why - moonlight marbled on tides, a lighthouse dull, deadened - i cannot reach the raft with my hand rigid, hugging the sun-faded pail, emptying water as i sink he hopes for fertile soil, i’m sure but all i am is salt Courtney (she/her) is a Gold Coast-based lesbian student, poet, and token spinster aunt. Poetry for her is a stable escape and way of expressing emotional mouthfuls, offering an opportunity to experiment with feelings and the senses. She is also keenly interested in political science and international relations - you can find her on Twitter and Instagram @courtsmccauls.
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August 2023
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Photo used under Creative Commons from John Donges