Eye level with the world, we drink gold with the hills in the morning too. Something must aggravate our urge to sneeze and the memories of a season the same colour, or one that we hope is about to be — Being on the edge of something so embodying, whether waiting or longing, is a swell rolling perpetually. We gather speed. It seems like nothing will gather us. Other mornings I don’t wake with an ocean inside of me at all —
Sophie Rae-Jordan lives in Pōneke, Aotearoa. She has been interested in writing since she was a young girl and likes the way that it can make her feel both big and small at the same time. Her poetry has been exhibited at Thistle Hall and published by Salty Magazine, Poetry New Zealand, and Mayhem Literary Journal. You can find her on instagram @thatislandwillnotbeperfect.