Tropic of Capricorn
mosquitoed telephones ring
around my moss disconnect
or violet lips corroded into
past judgements and poor eyesight
without intention to leave
mumbling along with wavecrest
in moon song with whale
i am forming an army
helicopter ringing from ear to ear
you won’t see me coming
morphed chandeliers enchanting my exit
as well as the vials of blood
donated because you
are the parts inside of me that
need to be diagnosed
or how you are soft like nightfall
how it clings to uncontaminated leaves
cloaked around our wingspans
or there’s always going to be mountains
somewhere nearby and blood
will always make me shiver
incapacitated and
swallowing watermelon seeds
my neon fingertips cannot press
into your skull anymore
About the author
Mitch Tomas Cave is based on the Sunshine Coast, Queensland. His writing has appeared in Australian Poetry Anthology, Cordite, Rabbit, Voiceworks, Plumwood Mountain, and numerous others. He was shortlisted for the 2018 Subbed In Chapbook Prize.
