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May 29, 2017 | by  | in Poetry |
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not Dev

eyes all opened hit the sun tentative

your pitch was wobbly like your lower lip

 

I couldn’t fix the movement got seasick

inside your sadness

 

so you left the house

for sausage meat

and I stayed put

glued PVA to the bed

 

a pillow cased strewn duvet

damp in sheet

deck chair folded fatigue

playing with the pen knife

cardboard boxes cut to threads

 

filling my hand with ink and pants with

come back to me like

scrambled eggs cold in the sink or

a toaster broken on the bench

 

saliva stains

 

I’m holding my eyes shut until I’m sure I’ll open them

to you holding the groceries

still pissed off with me

but with me still

 

I had a wet dream about someone who looked like you

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He Tāonga

:   I wanted to write this piece, in order to connect to all tauira within the University, with the hope that we can all remind ourselves that we are a part of an environment which is valuable, no matter our culture, our beliefs or our skin colour. The ultimate purpose of this