I tried the carrots here once. Butter.

Whipped. So how’s it been

since last year. Oh. Start

with 4pm wines. The olives–

Don’t forget to reply to – too late.

Some new friends some old.

Old enough to say salary say sip my wine

we’ll split it no you got it

last time. You’re looking thin aren’t you

meant to get bigger? Your hair is long isn’t it

meant to fall out?

I’d rather not

have cheese in my hair. Snot

on my top. Sometimes his, sometimes mine.

Mum I’d like to fuck (default: unfuckable).

You’re a Mum – can I put this in the dishwasher? How do I

get cake out of this doll’s hair?

How do I grieve

the most profound love

I’ve ever known?

Every

single

day.

Breathing out

only to inhale.

You’ve got one child why not

have another?

They say your heart just grows

so why has mine bled out

twice now –

My uterus takes another round and

folds. Was it greed or bad luck? That left you

22, 35, 40 –

Don’t wait for it to happen

a newly appointed Chief Justice said

about having a career and having kids and having

a uterus although

she called it being a woman.

So the first month of trying is

leg wax, sunbath, salt lamp, some supplements.

The tenth month of trying is

ultrasounds outside and in

blood tests

blood tests

blood tests

blood

appointment

supplement

appointment

supplement

urine

results

no coffee

no alcohol

no chilli

weekly needling

herbs

oxtail

soup.

Time to leave and

Going out tonight, chill tonight?

The waiter mistakes me

for having somewhere or

nowhere to be. Like it’s binary.

I play along.

Pay for a wine and estimate

some chips and the extra bits.

Sunday wages.

But I understand. I once always had

somewhere to be but no one to be.

Rain falls hard once I’m home.

Wet drops saying we’ve got

your back. I lick my lips dry.

And shouldn’t this tree

own it all? Take back the footpath.

Break down

the fences. Continents

can drift apart. And so can we.