Missing the edge that defines a body
as it loosens its hold;
toes mingle, breath is shared.
Dreams skip between heads.
Roses drip into each other.
Darkness allows and disbelieves,
there is only liquid.
Backstage we change costumes, finding
feathers that fit, and hats that don’t.
Who we are today, fits with how the clouds
formed last night, the hail yesterday
and the movie full of dance.
We find parts of ourselves
that don’t belong or fit into our sleeves.
Yet inside the human we are jazz,
picking our way through;
blindly becoming or pretending
past the line of self.
Meredith Pitt is a Blue Mountains based poet. She is largely self-taught and remembers often sneaking off to read the poetry section in the Childcraft books in her primary school library. Meredith was recently awarded the Verandah Literary Award 2018 and was published in NVQ 3.