I wish I thought my beauty was within,
skins inside-out. this is reasonable,
to have these things, to have but not possess
the bright distinctive clothing of our selves.
a personal colour analysis:
filters so that the colours are brighter.
infective joy each time you recognise
the sun’s soft kiss through overlapping leaves —
leaves that are starting to brown from the heat.
the heat is oppressive today. the wind,
clothes, and things that touch the skin of people.
some people drink, some people have sex, some
pull our genders down around our ankles
and memories of voices through the years
fall to the floor with my clothes. you wish for
the hostile light that does not warm, but burn —
an opportunity to lounge around,
curl into bed a little less ourselves.
not romance. I will stay here in the muck
and drink you in. today we are sunbeams,
the naked sun burning as if it could
touch me, be with me, feel with me, feel me,
and we are exposed more now than ever.
and there in lovelier light than tongue can tell,
there’s no ozone, so sunscreen is a must.
Rachel Hadas, Summer Nights and Days
Adara Enthaler, Leftovers
Emily Bronte, Ah! Why, because the dazzling sun
Nick Chlopicki, THIS IS SERIOUS MUM
Megan J Reidl, The Commute
Clio Davidson-Lynch, Pomegranate
Rae White, clear skies
Robert Pinsky, An Explanation of America: A Love of Death
May Swenson, Feel Me
Lucia De Luca, Burning, Shedding, Catching
About the author
Wren Goderie is a curious person living on Dharawal land. they like anagrams, textual analysis, tarot, the shared etymology of ‘eucalypt’ and ‘apocalypse,’ and anything else that involves uncovering secrets. they’re @wren_goderie on twitter & instagram.