If I know I will be an ancestor

then I am an ancestor now.

Let time collapse in on itself

like a conversation I overhear

has overheard my thoughts again and again and again

Let me be in constant drift,

letting time hold me in it’s pocket

whilst I conjure whispered magic

Each sunrise is

time checking it’s watch and

each sunset is

time putting on it’s glitter dress

The moon reflecting it’s light

until it is naked in it’s darkness The new moon

Who knows what dwells within the invisible void what noa lies within what stories it has yet to share but let us dance the sa’e flaunting our femme fatale bodies with a sensation of

lying in a new home

that feeling of moving furniture out the choice of moving furniture in

this is your house, you are it’s blood pumped in and around the vā the heart must return to the heart

where the soul resides

where it sleeps,

where it dreams,

where it feels most comfortable shedding

it’s clotted skin

When we say ‘city’ rooms for sitting rooms 'cause all means of life wonder through here drifting through this living room that is neither warm nor cold, just is

with you

making it, pouring transformations into it until time pulls us out of its deep pocket

into the light

holding us out in cupped hands presenting us to a higher purpose

an ali’i, a chief, a duty.

when that day comes I know I will feast

in my lack of time

as time has decided to spill it’s blood

into the land

and plant seeds of myself into it’s history.

If I know that time will come,

then I know that time is now.


for reo // for reo 

my lips r motherhood to ea syllable of my native tongue

these kupu swell like pregnant puku in me 

speaking stretch mark on to our skin

this language is my womb

                          my love 

                          my child

fr, fr.


we weave our hair together

root, twist, root, fold

follicles fossick for genealogy

palms sway at the nape

ivy on the mountain ridges

that cascade down our spines

veins meeting at the river delta

our permanent permaculture

roots divided with the corners of index nails

section, pull, section, flat

folding black rivers unto one another

falling foliage, decomposing bodies

we are all ancestors

returning time to one another

our pulse undulating from the jugular

we breathed you before we left

chained to a line of healer women

saliva taken from mouths

breath, spirit, whisper, spirit,

rubbed onto wounded flesh

we made you


in the belly of the world

we heal

before we go

// kapatid 23.04.20