Well Old Son: Part One

I

Tangled stars hang like barbed wire in mutilated skies, in blemished horizons of empty-green & broken-blue lines. A single image: female, stretched sideways, effortless hills, faded rosebuds, scarred thighs, haunts the darkness of closed eyes.

A lonely face: disturbed features, bold eyes, desperate lips, wine-stained

teeth. Bowed legs, bony arms, brutal hands. A body wasted. Long, leaning

beneath a silo, crucified by shadows. Abandoned somewhere, anywhere, nowhere.

In his grip teal-glass trembles.

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Stevi-Lee Alver is an Australian writer and tattoo artist. She lives in the middle of Brazil with her wife. She loves bush walks and waterfalls but misses the ocean.

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