PoetryBetween one end of the gap and the other the gravity of our gaze can but scratch like banksias  at your fingertips before starlight splits the present  across his teeth into pearl and lime stanzas.

PoetryWhen you arrive at the tip of the Cape, the coast opens its arms and you’re split into the rivulets  left by an outgoing tide, your translucent threads  untangling into a turquoise open,  where a jungle inflates into gentle mountains, your sight unrolling along...