Draw the lines of a spring smile,

Find it on a winter’s night.

Draw the line of your neighbor’s house,

Ask them if they need you around.

Draw the line of a fishing rod,

Lilac sky, father and son.

Draw the line of your backbone,

Make sure it’s straight and warm,

Draw the line between truth and lies,

Bury them in the same grave at night.  

Draw the lines of the wrinkles of age,

Look at the mirror and find its trace.

Lines are lines, knots of reality,

Infinity scarf’s knitted around green and sea. 

(Shaira Afrida Oyshee is a Bachelor of Design student at the University of Melbourne)