(for meg)

maybe our time was in the past
i remember you from four am couches
the messages in bottles once you get to the glass and it's talking through the last loose smoke

maybe the heroine doesn't slay the beast with her hair after he climbs the tower
the right end
to a wrong story

i remember washing the floor
with your salt and mine
‘it's all gone to shit’
and we're done for if we stay
or if they stay

this happy ending is not
climbing from the tower to end
from the coil
from the neck
with the beast looking on
nor is it taming him

i don't remember the descent
maybe thats a lie easily told
now our feet touch the grass

anthea bartholomeusz (Victoria)

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