Recorded: 16th of March

Location:

Melbourne, Australia

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Poem:

You left the butter out to soften,

but it was me who melted.

On the side of the street in the yellow light,

I could be swimming in honey

drowning in sweetness

The bell peppers dry

taste hotter at summers end

but it's no sweat

not with you.

Breaking corn bread,

pulling fish bones,

holding hands,

staying up late.

All the while

the butter on the bench top

slowly softens,

just as I do.

day by day, i melt a little more.