liver
I hang out the washing
at night.
Each peg squeaks
into place.
You, in the kitchen light,
warming my back.
~
I’m worrying again
about your liver
as if it helps.
I feel around
on you – which side
is it? How big?
~
You have nightmares
and kick me in your sleep.
Sometimes
I kick you back.
Read and/or hear this and other poems by Hinemoana and other New Zealand poets at lyrikline.org