Forgot to Whakanoa

Image Credit: Forgot to Whakanoa

Burning. My poho is burning.

The pain flows south, where my puku sits churning.

I feel sick, 

like I've eaten a whole tray of pies & a week's worth of Mi goreng 

all in one sitting.

I reach for the bottle of Sparkling Duet and try to put the bottle opening to my lips,

but there's a deep force from inside, pushing up against. Total absence of yearning. 

All the wai in my tinana is whirling, 

then like a broken cement truck, all that flowed becomes rock

I tilt my head back and pour the fizzy in, but it won't enter my mouth, 

there's an invisible force field. It feels like my throat is feeding me with fermented fear, anguish and doughboys.

The liquid splashes off my face, running down my cheeks and chin, and around 

to my neck. To the crevices of my arms and of my chest

I get goosebumps,

lips trembling

my hair and shirt drenched, and now I'm sticky

Unbearable sensations,

the day the pain in my tinana forever awoke

And where I began my unlearning.

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