Jaymz Lea

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Minding myself, horizontal on a broken sun lounger. Nursing this ankle, crisp
and hollow, like my bones finally demanded it was time for flight. I envy the Black Cockatoo’s
flirtation with air, feathers and breeze-block bones lifted in lover’s arms –
stealing space from clouds. From the roof they cawckle – just one more apple core.
If I lived in Cairns, I would always be living in tomorrow, my meat sack somehow not
yet here. How are we to meet each other in dreamworld if I cant feel them?
The alcoholic handyman strides over, handing me an orange ice pop that’s melting
like my face. I bet he wants to tell me I’m asking for skin cancer. Instead, he dresses anger
in sugar water and yellow teeth, “look at you champ, you’re all lovely
and bronzed, they’ll turn you into a medal when you get home.”

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Jaymz Lea (he/they) is a queer human, health professional, nature geek and writer. They find words about interiors – the edges – those othered outed and ousted. He’s shared much of his adult life with a queen, his cat, Effie.