BILL NELSON

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What the Sea Knows

 

Even though she believes the world is not an oyster, she knows

it has a crust, an incredulous centre. She filters sand through her brain,

the tiny organisms sucked in. She breathes

smoke from the fire pit, the cabbage and the kūmara.

And the wild children – she knows about them, cutting their own hair,

staying up all hours. She is energised by the world of plasma

feels love pricking at her skin, the pins of her wedding dress being taken in.

 

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