The Edges of Desire: A Beautiful Trap

Poetry microdose: Day Twenty-Six

Image: Photo by on

Dear Us,

The light shifts and
dancing shadows
have unexpected
nostalgic edges.

Edge dwelling
is a skill, as all things are,
and we, the flesh of us,
do it exceptionally well.

Blotted memories
like coffee spilt
on old carpets.
Edges undefined.

Bruised skin remains
where your words
landed with
calculated brutality.

What is this ache
between coming and
going. An edge of
suffering in forgetting?

Sincerely yours,
Us Split In Two

Stevi-Lee Alver is an Australian writer and tattoo artist. She lives in the middle of Brazil with her wife. She loves bush walks and waterfalls but misses the ocean.