You moved me along, the nausea passed, the native grasses at close quarters.

In the rush of the ceremony, sheets flapping, the beer spilled over the car bonnet
and our shoes. Someone said Lesbians! Lesbians and gorgeous women!
Someone answered Lesbians are gorgeous too. We paused, a soft hum
the only evidence. Then we clanked into action like an argument.

*

She had been there before and seen his car, seen the bedroom curtains pulled.
A smile, the bed flicking over like a shooting muscle, iceberg and speed fresh on them
leaving paleness on the tea-towel, on the bench. It never touched his reactions,
stainless steel. A new direction to send out in its place. The actual moment. Weeks.

*

The day we left it was full of sound. Dark closed.
The fridge, crumbs, dishcloth, damp, milk.
My mother warm and clicking. This time she was naked.
Engine under bonnet. Father up the driveway.
The affair he was having on his face.

Hinemoana Baker