Deviant Ingredient
I lick the insides of a coffee cup. Do it on purpose. Not
for attention I no longer want. Who can be assed anyway?
Then I taste the froth. Take my time, luxuriate, milkiness
mounts at the back of my throat. Caffeinated, my pencil
shoots S&M across the page. You can’t write that, the barista
speaks. Voices crack, spectacles fog, armpits ooze. Creation
comes anyway, peaks on a stool at a table meant for two,
wet patch smoking, open legs. Fizz, has its way with me;
poetry, now calls to me—come, anytime, anywhere
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
Kylie A Hough (she/they) writes on unceded Yugambeh Country. A finalist and recipient of various writing awards, Kylie’s poetry, essays and short stories are published locally and internationally, most recently in Lunch Ticket, Maudlin House, and Going Down Swinging.
If you’re looking for more Kylie, check our their poem Total Immersion from Issue 26!
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