a vastness of ocean

half of me belongs squatting on plastic stools

I ate oranges and didn’t know they tasted like sunset from Castle Hill.

It exists within another.

Every life spread out, mine parallel to yours parallel to everyone else’s.

Voyeurism is an affair of the mouth.

You move through the grain of closed eyes, calling through the undergrowth of my body.

We seem to think that our place on the spectrum between divinity and mayhem comes down to how loved we are.

One by one, friends gloved their hands and got to work; my ridged, lumpy canvas morphing and shifting, follicles taking on new forms every fortnight.

people watching. i peer ruthlessly from behind my darkened eyes. observing and absorbing like film.