Published in Overland Issue 235 Winter 2019 · Uncategorized Sapphic legacy Siobhan Hodge Marble braced – you are fed on the offerings loved by women. Tender sheets, beloved breast and curving hip. Aphrodite’s call was yours to issue. You are softness, pleasure and the push. You take all that we still give. Dark eye and proud brow. Took the name and made it foreign, home and whole. To make love as the women from Lesbia used to mean a very different thing. You took that too and made crushed violets of sweet longing. I can only roll apples for a glance – we were made for each other – time apart. Maybe you would have cursed my eyes, damned my step and broken my every tooth in your open, pulping mouth as you did those girls before. Image: Thomas Kelley on Unsplash Read the rest of Overland 235 If you enjoyed this poem, buy the issue Or subscribe and receive four brilliant issues for a year Siobhan Hodge Siobhan Hodge has a PhD in English. She won the 2017 Kalang Eco-Poetry Award and 2015 Patricia Hackett Award. Her poetry and critical work has been published and translated widely. Her new chapbook, Justice for Romeo, is available through Cordite Books. More by Siobhan Hodge Overland is a not-for-profit magazine with a proud history of supporting writers, and publishing ideas and voices often excluded from other places. If you like this piece, or support Overland’s work in general, please subscribe or donate. Related articles & Essays First published in Overland Issue 228 1 June 20231 June 2023 · Politics Turning peaceful protesters into criminals—again Evan Smith So the Summary Offences (Obstruction of Public Places) Bill 2023 has been passed by South Australia’s Legislative Assembly and will become law. Fifteen hours of debate in the upper house, led by the Greens and SA Best, could not overturn the bill that was reportedly rushed through the lower house in just twenty-two minutes a fortnight ago. First published in Overland Issue 228 31 May 202331 May 2023 · Film In Memoriam: Kenneth Anger’s cinematic incantations Eloise Ross ‘Making a movie is casting a spell,’ said Kenneth Anger about his lifelong profession, his unique and spectacular talent, his very own dark magic. That certainly describes how I was lured into his realm. There was a time in my life where I would watch Anger’s seven-minute film Rabbit’s Moon basically on repeat, infatuated by its blue-tinted images of a sprightly harlequin dancing around a clearing and calling silently to the moon. It was poetry.