Hinemoana Baker

1968 / Christchurch

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
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