hold the wind in my arms
ghost trees toss
their shrouds of
pale cloth
while wave-feathers trail
white-peacock fringes
behind surges
irreparable
over rocks
as my tin-can heart
soaks up
songs from
half-forgotten harmonicas
I’m poised
a broken-bevel jewel
seeking kintsugi
to gild old scars
kintsugi is the Japanese art of mending broken pottery with strands of gold lacquer
Photo: Claire Doble
I had a job in a Sydney shoe shop
with Irvine Welsh in 95
he was a small 23yo Scottish woman
I was a noodle goth, 18
Trainspotting had just come out at the cinema
my friends did heroin
got arrested stealing mobile phones from cars
while I
did time in the storeroom
avoiding customers
Irvine and I took bellydancing lessons
drank Irn Bru in a Glebe café and
dossed in Bondi Junction
with the latest blue-bottled wine
it was before Facebook so
he will never find me now
Photo: John Broks on Unsplash
clairevetica 