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Hurricane Elizabeth

My parents were married in a storm

and since March ‘92, I have felt a roar

through my hair and in my sinews.

Quiet surgency of the eyes and throat,

I am a floating Machina of despair –

overturning insides, my skin still

screaming like an engine from birth.

Inwards, I compress to meditation

and disturb my depression with a kiss.

The cities shred and mammalians cry

but settled in the eye – no one can see us,

I whisper in a breath, clean as rain and

more impressive than thunder. Like Tāne,

we hongi amongst the lightning, held bright

from the whir. I caress my angst, a baby.

This typhoon cocoon, where stillness is

forever, I honour our love when I havoc,

blessed and scooped in something wilder.

🎨/📷 by Shane Cotton, Red Shift, 2006/07

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