fragments of the world

that summer of young things
throws its light
from time to time

I catch in the corner of my eye
the orange gold of sundown falling
over cafe tables on a bustling footpath
and suddenly you
are there beside me again

we are sitting with the remains of dinner
sipping drinks, slipping hands and fingers
together against warm familiar skin
anticipating undressed bodies that will lie
trembling, later, on the half-lit sheets
of a hostel bed

I’ve always been self-conscious
about my legs, you tell me, sitting naked
beside that small room’s windowsill
my eyes fixed on one thigh
stretching out
the other draping
down

and the moon outside
moving
slowly through the sky

we never talk
the years stretch out
and little things
pile up
dust gathers
in the corners
unnoticed

but sometimes of an evening
on the wide streets
of an introspective city
that summer throws its light
the soft orange gold of sundown
across one small
fragment of the world

and I catch you
in the corner of my eye
there beside me again

Ben Adams is a poet, writer, servo-clerk, research assistant, festival cash wrangler, history and English major. His poetry has appeared in a range of print and online publications including ‘Australian Love Poems’, ‘The Grapple Annual’, ‘Red Fez’ and ‘Tulpa Magazine’. His poem Wet Leaves was included as part of the 2018 Raining Poetry in Adelaide street-art project. He also shares poems and photography on Instagram @bts.adams while poems and politics can be found on his Twitter feed @badbadams.

Readers’ original and unpublished poems of up to 40 lines can be emailed, with postal address, to [email protected]. Submissions should be in the body of the email, not as attachments. A poetry book will be awarded to each accepted contributor.