Electric Blue
The muse is visiting again she’s sleeping in my bed in my head running my hand down your chest through those hairs I saw poking from your blouse that one Wednesday Is the longevity of my vision a gift is it my process to remember you are you inextricable from the pattern of my pen It’s a big wide world but whatever there is to be found between us feels like electricity in the blue like neon, like brightness, like heat I will hold my tongue until I have offered it to you but there are words in the silence & they have a sound of their own I will not try to pretend that I do not know this song.
Devon Webb (she/her) is a writer & editor based in Aotearoa New Zealand. Her award-winning work has been published extensively worldwide & revolves around themes of femininity, vulnerability, anti-capitalism & neurodivergence. She is an editor for Erato Magazine, Pulp Lit Mag & Prismatica Press, & a founding member of The Circus (@circuslit), a collective prioritising radical inclusivity within the indie lit scene. She can be found on social media at @devonwebbnz.