Queer places in Tasmania: Mourning their unique loss and celebrating their own heritage
It really is three o’clock each day I am also moving. Sweaty, hot systems thrust on their own into the other person like colliding surf, milling and moving under the neon nightclub lighting. A metal pole extends from floor to threshold, covered in handprints and lipstick scars. Batting its silvery eyelids, it glimmers to use …
- Hirdetés -