Two am passion
a stranger
in the night
that I learn
to embrace

submerged in the
foreign darkness
of morning
before light

we are Hester’s lovers
tangled in
individual anguish

drawn closer
to morning

we are Hester’s lovers
entwined in
shallow breath

that still signals
long after

Collage by Hannah Gartside


When I go home to Sydney to visit for Christmas my brother picks me up from the airport. I get a late flight and Mum doesn’t like to drive at night. She says her eyesight isn’t what it used to be and I guess that’s like a lot of things.

My brother drives through the back streets to avoid the tolls and we’re on this one stretch so long I think he’s lost his way. There are no streetlights and a lot of greenery so I know we’re far from home. We don’t talk much on the drive home. It’s like we’ve gotten to a point where we don’t really know what to say.

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