Tendril islands 

Gentle careful aches for touch

Much sense filled to almost brimming

In your kisses I am swimming 

Bring, bring us tendril islands 
Let’s go together 

Lost on our island forever 

Never, ever be anything but us

Oh, flounder and thrust
Tickle, trickles into a caress 

I’m sorry but I might make a mess

Wispering silence as much as you can best

The lick of a breast 
For long our nibbles

Trouble with tribbles

Plays quitely on your TV

I steal a kiss passionately 
Clever girl, your gasping breath says

Tendril of your tounge finds

Sipping your wine, for it’s time 

For partaking of mine 
Tendril islands

Put into motion

Drinking this potion

Lost in my ocean 

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Graced to be

I’m graces

Of dandylion tea

Mead in my mouth

As kisses 

In blissful embrace

Jule noises in my ear

I’m happy but sad

It’s forceful and full

But will I ever not fill empty

I’m final 

I’m bleeding

I’m sad

I just keep grabbing and holding this kiss tight

I don’t know if I 

will ever be

Be

Spiders, birds, books, wombats, nerds

Riding the noises in the forest fae

Spiders, birds, books, wombats, nerds

Strange library, evergreen, oh don’t mind me

Pinky promises flowering essence, cool Ghostly presence

Little strange new dreams of machines, none of them clean 

Rocky colors, shook the duller capture 

Fresh kill to the bones of the Trill, they’re after the carrion fill 

Hot cups, gimlet luck, blue blood, true mud

Flicking others, shadows like cothered muffeled mussel 

Dripping with spite their is the spike, and the hill of the place of the armsted respite 

Besides that their it is, a spokesman for the next new species 

A fairy and a robot, a gathering thought, waves

It’s hand is up, sucking on the teat

Newborn, but not a newcomer

How quickly will it learn? 

Of the spiders, birds, books and nerds? 

Wheat eyes in harrow

Harrow, the wheat is wet by the summer rains
Slice and chop the chaff and crop every last grain

Upon my face the heat and warmth of the touch
Inside my heart the fire of the hate

Crop and cut and the burn the stubs
I can’t feel the same

The hill above is coved with clover and sundew and pain

I grip in my hands my mothers crown and perhaps fame
But am I my mothers child, or is it just her name?

In court we haggle, in offices we barter, we trade friends and play power games
Do they give the chance to those like me whom have not the brain?

No we crop the soil and tend the earth, when they bite on there good they thank us none the same

But the hill is always there, and the wheat. I am here cropping the wheat. A bug has eaten its pollen, and a worm has eaten the chaff. I will also be eaten one day.

Eaten, and consumed, like eyes on a perfect page of poetry that makes you feel insane.

Smoke in the carpark

The fire alarm banshee cry filled the insides of the mall like molasses. Every corner of the mall reverberated with it. People all around looked in dismay at each other, all searching for the nearest exit.

“We better get out of here”
“But the dress?”
“Keep it, at least you have cloves on”
Shoeless, Devine got up and walked awkwardly with Tam out of the mall to the evacuation point in the malls car park. They had just got there when the bomb went off.

Meanwhile, at the fire station full Emergency mode was already coming about. William was sitting in FRT3 half way to Belconnen Mall when the smoke from an explosion rose tempest above the horizon blackening the sun. As he got out of the truck a second explosion made him jump. They, the bomber was making it impossible to get anywhere near the building. The first explosion had destroyed the exits, the second had made it so anyone in a car had no exit either. Four close to simultaneous explosions from the looks of it, each destroying one of the ramps, or the road near the exit, making it near impassible. This was planned terrorism with one intent, as many hostages as possible in a confined space. William took a look at the rest of the crew of FRT3 and the crew chief picked up the walkie talkie…
Static.
It was blocked. This was more calculated then he thought. There was no way to communicate with the other crews, or police, ambulance, anyone. The mobile lines would jammed with people trying to call for help or trying just to call loved ones.
“Ok, we need to set up a perimeter, no lines of communication with other crews. William get the flare gun from the back.”
They shot of a flare were they were parked, glowing hot pink in the sky, a sign for all other crews and police, ambulance, and possibly more to come to their position. They would need to takle this one as a group. There would be no single person going in and trying to solve the problem by themselves, that only happened in movies.
There would be about, 600-1000 hostages in that building, the last thing they needed was a fireman amongst them.

Trees and rain

Really it had been harder than she had expected. Taking her clothes off had always been the most difficult part. It was due to the teasing, they had called her a boy and she often couldn’t help but imagine one time she would take off her trousers and underpants to find she had become a he. She had dreams about it for a time. But also dreams about having breasts, often comically large. It was still hard, but only when undressing somewhere public, the pool, gym, and the store change room. These are all places she avoided if at all possible. Order online, swim in your own pool or when the public pool was empty and don’t go to the gym or get changed at home. Every now and again she had this urge to make sure she was the same clothes size. Then Devine ended up like this.
Half naked, crying, in a store cubical.

your pathetic

That was what her father had said. Cold hearted bastard, mother had divorced him when she was 2. He still somehow got visitation of her and that meant he could play his mind game on her, or her mother through her. He also called her a boy, pathetic when she cried even made her feel like he didn’t love her. But then she had made it as women he seemed proud and happy. It made as much sense as anything else in the enigma garden that was her fathers mind.
It still hurt her, those words.
How could she get out of this?
More crying.

“Um hello?”

—–

Tam was having a bad day. It wasn’t unusual for her. They came as freely as the sun and moon. It was as if they poor freely from the open wounds of the sky. So on this usually crappy day Tam had no breakfast. Walked to work from her really small apartment which she shared with her hopelessly pretty but gay housemate Steve. He always seemed happy and was getting married soon, he was moving out leaving her with the full rent for the small concrete box she called home. Then she got a call from her ex- boyfriend/stalker about some sort of money he still owed her (it was she decided a dead loss to expect it back at this stage). Then she had to open the store as her manager was late again. Finally a girl was crying in one of the cubicles.

She approached cautiously hoping she didn’t have to call security to get the door open.
“uh hello?”
Crying.
“hello?”
More sobs but quieter.
“Hello in there. Are you alright.”
Less sobs. Then “I don’t know”
It was weak, like a kitten on it’s first day out.
“it’s ok, I am sure it will be ok.” Tam thought maybe I can talk to her for a bit, sounds like her day has been just as if not more than shitty mine. We have that in common.
“I am not a boy.”
That was unexpected. This is a real problem. Not like mine.
“ok I thought I saw you choose the blue dress, is it not fitting you?”
Best make a topic of conversation away from the topic of being or not being male.
“I haven’t tried it yet.”
Weakly again.
“ok, ok, that’s ok. You don’t have to try it.”
“I want to.”
“ok. Thats fine. You can do that to.”
“I can’t”
“why?”
“i … I … I don’t like myself.”
“I am sure your lovely”
“why?” weak again.
“your voice is beautiful” Tam said with confidence.
“oh. ”
Some ruffling sounds were produced. Then silence.
Devine opened the door to reveal a wet face in a sea of blue dress.
“I hope I look as pretty as I sound.” She meeped.
“You do.” Tam hugged her, it seemed appropriate.
Then the fire alarm went off.

The clothes shop

It was a cloudy day, one perfect for shopping. I was nervous about it. I knew I needed a decent dress, but I could easily buy online, why did I have to go to the store? Because I needed to see if I was still the same size. I hadn’t changed for years, not since I was 18. But I need to check. I thought to myself.
Devine your a basket case. There I go again, putting myself down. Why? I need to stop it. I am a young, confident, women, who can do this I am strong.
Ok.
Now just need to actually step into the Mall.
I walked out of the bus station and put my iPod on. I got it to play my “confidence”, playlist. I took confident strides in my custom made ballet slippers and denim skirt, my tight red jacket hugging me and my chest in. I am woman, hear me roar.
I walked into the mall and almost came to a complete stop.
Malls terrify me. Markets, they are fine. City walk, it’s a breeze. But step into the Canberra Centre and enter the Second worst Mall in Canberra. The first being Belco Wesfeild, I call it the Darth Mall since they changed the deco to look like a inside or a gay mans Death Star.
I alway notice the deco first. People I can handle. But bad decoration? I hate it. The Darth Mall makes me feel trapped, Canberra Centre makes me feel like I am in a bad disco for poorly coordinated clowns at a xmass party. Everything in mall is marble, carpet, concrete, glass and whitish paint. Exception Belco were it’s black or grey. Canberra Centre added to the horror with hanging things off walls and from the ceiling. Great advertising boards full of exceptionally pretty people or large post modern art deco things that look like they defy style more than they should defy gravity. Worst is that they hung lights and things in the sculptures, leaving macabre horrors in shadows on the walls. Right, hotel ces la potty, it’s time to march.
I walk up the escalator, spending little time looking at everyone else. I so don’t want to meet my friends or enemies here today. This is Canberra. Four Mall city ( if you don’t count DFO) which I don’t since you need a car. I am never driving one of those things, but that’s a story for another day.
Need to keep focus or I will be at the store and Chicken Run and have to start again next weekend, which will be worse as I will have to go with my mother. She’s a lovely women, but her sense of style is worse then a mall designer. Says the girl in the denim dress. Ok, ok, so it’s not that bad, I just don’t want her fussing over me like a school of cleaner fish. She always has to cop a feel if my boobs too. It’s like she still think I got them done without her knowing. I was a very late bloomer. Didn’t even have a period till I was 17. My boobs came in when I was 18 like mountains that suddenly knew were there place was. It was almost like waking up with a pair of new … We’ll boobs, really.
Because of that I have never really been comfortable about being in this body. It seems like somehow it took over and my mind was all that was left. The whole school used to tease me about being a boy. I even acted like it sometimes. Played the rough games, drank the boy drinks, even managed to make captain of the mixed lacrosse team in my high school. I was thinking about playing in Uni as well soon as class starts in the new year.
I was in the final month of my gap year out of school and now I had to buy a dress. Thats a shock. I used to wear dresses all the time as a young girl. Till I started getting teased about really being a boy. Then I stopped. I went on to develop my style. That’s this. Denim skirt or pants, purse or wallet. Then red leather jacket, green or pastel shirt for winter, white or pale grey for summer with a light grey or pastel skirt. I never could keep on pretending I wasn’t a girl when my boobs came, which is why I kept with the skirts. Despite the teasing I knew I was a girl and the goddess would reward me someday with a wonderful bust. My girls grew pretty quickly and I was always thankful for them.
I was at the store.
My iPod still playing I quickly turned it off. I put it away in my purse and slowly walked into the store. Designer shoes intoe.
I didn’t think this was the right time for this, but when my best friend said he was getting married I had to get a decent dress. It means so much to him that I be there when he gets tied to his love. They are made for each other.
A plumber and a wine merchant, it was a match made in heaven. The one supplied the need for the other. They had met a my very hastily organized 19th birthday in January, and now both of them were madly in love. It was sweet, happy, and they had plenty of cash. It was also A Greek wedding. Heh. The mothers were loving every minute of their kids getting together. They even had iconic names, Adam and Steve. The puns could keep the bank full forever. Gay to be wed friends aside I was I the store and thankfully my thoughts had kept me distracted enough to look at this dress. It was my size. It was new. It was a healthy shade of pastel blue. It was what I needed. Now to get it. That’s the hard part. I hoped I didn’t start crying.