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Anna Davis

In Defence of Intimate Friendships

I note the sharpness of coral

pigeon feet on the dark rain

saturated tarmac.


I catalogue futility and hope;

my chin dripping, hands fuzzy

against olive green.


you: a cat’s toe beans.


the fullness of the city is rich

like ground oil pigments.

second-hand clothes squeeze

out from the faded histories

of past owners,

and into mine.


you hold me in Chinatown

among stiff deathless plants

and thick rain. you reify

lightness: a dolphin, smooth

and skimming.


my wrist: the foamy current.


you love me. you buy a book

on Sappho. you remember

being zipped up on another

dark tarmac night,

wind splashing


up the sides of the tower,

a pummelled cliff face.

your cheek.


you say: you’re easy to love.


I cry at menus and long queues

and in your neck

like an exorcism.


I am interested in celebrating my daily interactions, and documenting moments of everyday beauty.


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