The exchange of an apple For a kiss What should be sweet bliss Undone by a twist Of temptation

Goals, gains The fitness wheel Best body, grains Pyramid of food Niggles, sprains Pushing through Dullness, chains Reps like a fool

The morning commute Amidst an army of charcoal suits Stepping through rain-washed streets Droplets pausing on eaves

The rattle of a keychain in the paint-peeled entryway opening to an empty place and single light source

Outside the low grey sky Clouds silently sinking On the steel horizon The cool winter’s air lacking fire

First pots clanging from the kitchen Then blankets falling from the cupboard - not much room in A stubbed toe An itchy eye Dancing mischief does my head in

“Babe! Where’s my boots?!” She laughs and spins Twirling on gravel Next to his ute Parking lot Old stone hotel On a hilltop Brumby country Slinking her tanned arm into the tray to pull out his Blundies He hollers and steps - sun setting - grabbing her waist and drawing her in for a kiss.

In art, the word liminal appears so often it fades into white walls failing to exist beyond the tight black text embedded as bold statement declaring implicitly that the artist is undecided, unpersuaded by a notion of reality - debating with demons unseen spectres threatening indecision of either youthful opinions or the experience of forgiveness.

I dreamt last night I saw you on the streets Of the city In which once we lived And maybe loved Though it’s hard to know From this distance

I heard last night As if from behind my shoulder A whisper And I knew at once This echo of you Though it’s hard to know In this instance

I tilt my head Tell myself I feel your breath caress My neck In that sweet spot Where you favoured flirting But it’s hard to know In your absence

Wafts of strawberries And fresh cream With a twist of mint Undertones of raspberries Fern and bracken Mineral flint Whole sour cherries On oak leaves Bramble hint Plums and gooseberries Sweet peaches Ever since

I have never been more excited To see the sunrise reflected in your eyes To hear the notes Of songwriters and poets Declaring their love In a letter

To feel the warm embrace And the sweet taste Of your lips Glancing as if an eclipse May soon reveal what is hidden A message sent In weather crisp and in time for me to have forever

To be more excited More elated To visit the postmaster In the post office Your heart’s desire related To me on fresh paper

I have never been more excited For the expressions Of your love

The narrow boat Afloat Amidst a flotilla Not a scintilla Of hesitation Amongst bows and oars And awesome Bodies bronzed With sock tans Worn by zootie fans In caps and attitude To settle old feuds About which first eight Would win this race And claim their place In history

While the novice Nobbled by nerves Trembles Wistfully