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I want to be loved
To be important To be cherished To be cared for To be equal To be asked To be answered To be chosen To matter
And to know it, to feel it, everyday
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I bury my face into your shoulder, tangy and salty and contentedly sweaty.
I murmur bad poetry with unfeigned earnestness, because the sound of your eyelids fluttering and your soft lips parting as you giggle and release the seriousness of sex is a balm of ambrosia for my heart.
I wish I could remember what I said that had you so enveloped in mirth that your mouth had no space left for the tip of your tongue.
But then I might have had no space left in my memory bank for this thought, this moment, this love.
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You are:
Mine.
My love.
Not as in a possession of which I am the sole owner.
But as in the love, the lover, one to which I belong. Am invited to. Get to celebrate and enjoy. Get to share in.
And together we build Our Love.
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Karanga mai,
e te moana o aku tīpuna
Ka huri au, ka rongo ki a Tangaroa
Ka hurihia, ka pūawhehia au e Tāwhiri-mātea
Whakatakina ai aku tātai
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Call me forth
The ocean of my ancestors
I turn to, I listen to/sense Tangaroa [God of the Ocean]
I am turned and blown about Tāwhiri-mātea [God of the Wind]
In search of my heritage / Reciting my lineage
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Do you need anything?
No... wait, ask me again.
Do you need anything?
I need you to love me.
I think I can do that. Maybe not right yet, but I think you could be easy to love. And I think I would like to love you.
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"I didn't fall in love with you. I walked into love with you, with my eyes wide open, choosing to take every step along the way." - Kiersten White, The Chaos of Stars
I am not jumping off the jetty, to be shocked breathless by the icy swirling foaming water.
I am walking into the ocean, step by careful step. Waves lap at my feet, my legs, my hips, until there's nothing else to be done but dive under.
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The delicious feel of wanting you
Wanting you feels like
a warm gentle pressure in the space between my breasts, like being held safely against your body a tingling dancing in my fingers, like a pianist trilling high notes slowly building anticipation a mellow pulsing of my blood against my skin, like the bass beats from a speaker, contained but urging a blooming hum low in my belly, like flowers that spin and open to face the sun like birthday candles on a cake, small flames leaping, waiting for a breath
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"I don't mind if you play me badly, I just need to be touched"
- Sinead O'Connor, in her memoir Rememberings
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Ko tōku reo, ko tōku ohooho?
Ko tōku ohooho kei korā Kei kō atu Kei korā anō E kopa ana Mai ōku māunga Māku e hapa
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My precious is over there, Far away, Even further, It flies past From my mountains Missing me
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One of my iwi is going through Tribunal hearings this week. Uncle started the first day with whakapapa, and I could only understand maybe half of what was being said because I've lost so much reo.
It hurts that something that is, that should be, mine by birthright is out of reach. Partly from my decisions, partly my parents' decisions, mostly from colonisation.
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"In another time and place"
As if we didn't choose all the choices that have us here in this space
As if we couldn't choose to find a new path to take
As if our futures are not infinite overlapping multiverses of fates plural laid out on a plate pick a bite to taste
If only we weren't so scared to leave this familiar place
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The One, of sorts
If I'm not to be The One, then let me set the bar so high that you're One is truly One in a Milion, One of the Best One that Lasts a Lifetime One to Grow With, Laugh With, Dance With, Explore With One that Proves they're The One that Deserves You not just any one
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Matariki kāinga hokinga
Ngā whetū kei runga, Te whenua kei raro, Ko au kei waenganui
Te kāinga ukaipō kei muri Te kāinga whakatū kei mua Ko au kei waenganui
Ka karanga tōku tūrangawaewae Ka karanga tōku ngākau Ko au kei waenganui
Kei hea, kī hea, mā hea te hokinga?
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The stars above The land below And me, in between
The home I come from behind me The home I build in front of me And me, in between
My homeland calls My heart calls And me, in between
Where is, where to, by which means, returning?
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"Where have you been all my life?"
I've been making mistakes collecting trauma learning lessons and gathering ideas building my chrysalis ready to emerge and be with you now
Just like you.
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"I wish I had known you sooner" - But I wasn't then yet the me you know now
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After logs have long burned down flames have licked and danced the edges burnt black stain a wayward touch
Your love is a smooth heat that glows from warm rounded embers strong enough to last the long dark night
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Time is the master crafter,
Shaping us,
Moulding us,
Painting us,
Singing us into existence
What a privilege it is to be crafted alongside you
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Not Just Words: Secret to happiness
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Choose      to hold onto the moment 
Be      the you that embodies your values. 
Dance      because the music is in you, moving you, is you. 
Taste      the textures, the flavours, mingling like fireworks. 
Escape      into daydreams, into adventures, into feats of everyday magic. 
Notice      fullness, emptiness, bizarre and ordinary.
Invite      expansion, pleasure, experience and fortuity.
Choose  To be To find Enough
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"Secret to happiness”
Sounds like: your favourite song Tastes like: a home cooked meal Smells like: a new book Feels like: a crisp morning
Part of the series created for Christina Jane's "Not Just Words" exhibition in SALA 2022. Paintings available for sale through her website.
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