[blue august]

you don’t look sad; you feel it.

you look blue — and i am

wiping the colour from your eyes,

until i fade from sight

and my body distorts, warping

like film, spinning

on a reel that carries bone

to white skin. that changes my voice

to an echo of a song

you thought you knew.

this language is foreign to you now.

which part is love? is it all?

so much love, so much agony

for something you

can’t even touch. what do you

feel now? i remember

growing up in adelaide.

i fell in love and it killed me.

you held my hand in a tidal pool

and looked at it

like you had so much more to say.