Flicker There might be a god of the molten wax. A god who ordains its path as it spills from the pond by the wick. A god whose warm finger traces slopes and hollows and sacred pools. God of the slow cascade. God of melting and form. God of the fall. I want my candle wax god to consecrate this: Your lips on my breasts; your breast on my lips. Caresses and kisses that drip, drip, drip, burn and cool. Grow heavy. Fall. Slip away.
FWB For our first sleepover, I bought you Haigh’s chocolate You opened each piece with a chef’s knife. No surprises. It’s been all cutting and devouring since.
Beeper Peddle is a writer and healer living on the East Coast. She lives with her partner and their beloved soul puppy. Beeper writes about sorrows, lies, and deep loves. When you read her work, you will dip down into her heart and end up in all manner of body parts. Should you find yourself reflected in these words, it is merely coincidence; however, it does not surprise her you share the same heart. Find her at bethpeddle.com and @beeperpeddle on Twitter and Instagram
Kathryn Reese (she/her) lives in Adelaide, South Australia. She works in medical science and enjoys road trips, long walks and late night collaborative art experiments. Her writing explores themes of nature, spirituality, myth and the possibility of shape shift. Her poems are published in Neoperennial Press Heroines Anthology, Paperbark, Hayden’s Ferry Review, and Yellow Arrow Journal.
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