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Tasmanian devil/Taz

Writing by Daniel Delfs. Illustration Berenika Murray.

When a heart beats against the borders of being

An energy artificial or internal, sinful or sublime


Tearing through skin

A skipping step

To the musical poundings of possibility

Momentum wrenches the lifted leg violently onwards

But the boundary of bone, blood, flesh, and nerves

Precariously battered into place by a burning star

Cannot join the wind

And those mangrove roots

Fed by sweet murky waters and many-toothed amphibians

Tether firmly to the ground

As much as they may shake and tremble

At the dissonant poundings of possibility

Yet in loving compromise with the pungence of burnt rubber and singed hairs

That grand network of roots does shake the dirt and begin to twist

A writhing of such release that the origins of this passion are forgotten by the first rotation

That fixed spot on the wall is useless as our heads spin

What was that about the eye of the storm?

Let me trade the blue of yours for the brown of mine

And our tearing will replenish the marsh that rises as vapour around us

Hope the fish won’t mind the dry spell

Point our mismatched gaze at how they flounder

In the drowned cries of possibility.

The winds are high, gale force prods and pounds the pavement,

Claws rip unthinkingly

Shake the walls, pressure mounts, a talon caught in the lock, the door flung open.

Popped ears. shattered tension - the raw nerves of broken glass

Lay buzzing now

In wilful disarray

The spinning top meanders, falters, and topples

In a limp heap

Tugged by a homebound tide

Tumble dried by sympathetic zephyrs

A broken form delivered to the waiting atoll

Coral bathed in moonlight

Your pieces will be whole by morning light, of this day or the year that follows

So slumber soft and sectioned

The skin that mends remembers, anticipates

That pounding of possibility

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