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.