Stop the camera. Tell me about the illusion of dialogue
How you tried to weave between identities, but were stopped
the voice-o’er cajoling you out of {Or unto} those innermost
undermost caverns. And I will tell you back the ephemeral moment
curving, bending back, emptying shelves of time. Fifteen minutes—
long enough to order an alternate flavour. An error worth fixing?

Step out of trying to reclaim the euphemistic landscape
{ Your unpaved eyes. o digital blink} Echolocating both-neither life
filters your face through your eyes and the movement of water
sings out the atoms left behind. The sea is on fire. {O haze}
Waves navigate the burning as your texture spits itself
onto wet sand. They collect fragments. Shells of crisp silence

Only one letter separates love and armour. { where o’s

un-muted yawn grip frolics}

Between resilience and silence:

• air & eir
• fluttering together
• dizzy as copper in soil s w
• s w arming past traffic o l l e n

About the author

Fleur Lyamuya Beaupert is a genderqueer poet, writer and researcher. Current writing appears in Science Write Now, Australian Poetry Journal, Mascara Literary Review’s Resilience anthology, Cordite Poetry Review and Wild Roof Journal.

Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash.