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tradie girl winter
In this poem, Rebecca Lester gives you an amalgamation of three loves lost—two former partners, and herself. (Disclaimer: she has never been a tradie.)
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the garden of eden is melting, the blood is on my hands
Rebecca Lester writes of clashing teeth, bruised peaches and breath-fogged mirrors in this art-inspired poem for FRAMED!
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i don’t think necromancy is something you put on a cv
How do you mend the ache in your body that screams “something should be here”? Rebecca Lester doesn’t know, so she wrote this instead.