‘TANK’ by Stephanie Powell

they were the first to do it not the last but this was after school and
afterwards he made her polish pancakes that was after the cleaning
up though I heard that the bedsheets had to go in the wash and that 
his sister was home so they had to be quiet we all wondered about 
what it was like the sex the oil and sugar remains on the plate on fingers
 if they sat up on a table or ate in bed if it hurt we waited for her on the oval
under dishcloth clouds knee socks loosened down legs diligently razored
and soaked in body butter bags half open like our mouths TANK is not
the word for something soft but that is how those afternoons felt 
metallic unyielding the bad wanting not to go home but amble and gossip
speculate about sex and the other people doing it and how they 
seemed different even the shape of the thigh where it met the skirt
how rounder and more woman in their sex muscles and the difference in
the sway of hair under knotted cumulus overhead steel grey oxidised 
our bodies wanting the same thing hearts like cupolas banging against the sky.

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Meet the Poet!

Stephanie Powell writes and takes photos. Her collection Bone was published by Halas Press in 2021. She is the recipient of the Melbourne Poets Union Poetry Prize, 2022. Her work has also appeared in Ambit Magazine, The Moth, The Rialto and Cordite Poetry Review. Her collection Gentle Creatures will be published by Vagabond Press in 2023. IG: @theatticpoet