Ways of falling

At some moment in the intergalactic expedition, I found myself 
Collapsing and folding, all my memories of love like origami fortune telling

We lie on your mattress on the floor, and you ask me how much I love you. As much as the stars! I reply, breathless. By the time we break up, the shopping list also included: 

The moons, the planets, the mars rover, the satellites, the rockets, the international space station, the supernovas, the blackholes, the stardust, the beyond, the beyond, the big, the noise, the space, 

I carry on collecting, myself, until it included:

the pause, the gap, the tooth, the crack under your door, the dark, the penny under the couch, the shush, the pause, the horror, the daytime television, the white buzz, the magpie, the fame, the fascination, the light, the light, the light, the indigestion, the blink, the flutter, the text book, the dictionary, the Kinsey scale, the closet, the lamp, the dresser, the pin cushion, the needle, the seed, the thought, the train, the cloud, the postage stamp, the ordinary, the exotic, the family, 

Until the archive grew into an accumulation of expectations. Of everything including the kitchen sink being thrown against my neck – of…

the 36 hours and counting, the plane tickets, the sand, the phone call, the song, the goodbye, the candle wax, the lie, the crescent shaped moon, the crescent shaped finger nail, the medical report, the coming out, the secret, the culture, the expectation, the husband, the child, the house, the suv, the grandchildren, the pēpi, the hai zhi, the tragicomedy, the wall plug, the iphone charger, the rice cooker, the poppy & barley perfume, the girl, the girl, the girl, the girlfriend, the girlfriend, the girlfriend, the apology, the apology, “Mother I cannot have the life you want me to have,” 

And as we outgrow these roles, we find that there are multiple ways of making love. 

Shyly. Apologetically. Crossing the tees and dotting the I’s. Slowly. Without even realising. In a whisper. Proudly. Carefully. Holding. Tightly. You are brave. Safe. Held. With laughter. How are you feeling? Does this feel good? I am here. I am here. learning. How to ground you. You are here. Eyes and ears and mouth and nose.
Head shoulders knees and toes, knees and toes. You are here. For the first time. Sweetly. Under fairy lights. In a Caravan. In the Darkroom. In a photograph. Between homework and choir practise. 

There are multiple ways of fucking
 In a bed. On the floor. Wrapped up in blankets. In a debate. Free market. 1991 mother of all budgets. Who’s David Lange? It’s Lange. That’s I said. Lange. In love. Making love in Love.

Casually. Booty call. Threesome. Best friend. Glass dildo. Happy 21st! Hope you had fun night. Unsuccessful orgy. Can I touch you like this? Does this feel good? What would you like me to do? I am not a communist. I didn’t say you were but I think capitalism is a fucked up system. I think I’m falling in love with you. Don’t say that. In the closet. It’s fine mum we don’t need the extra mattress. No, we are just changing give us a minute! In a rush. Hiding. Breathing. Dissociate. Morning after pill. Nerves. Condom breaking. Heart breaking. Post-breakup sex. Deciding to breakup while having sex. Mind fuck. PHILOSOPHY 105, General education Course at the university of auckland, FUCKED ME UP HARD

And so, in this desperate attempt to find something true, something real, in turning to the ways we were raised on love - 

making tea. 
Chopping fruit. 
Putting salt on them 
so they don’t brown. With toothpicks 
stabbed through. Driving me to rowing 
at 4:30 in the morning. Waiting till I finish debating at Epsom Girls grammar. Paying for piano lessons. Making me herbal chicken soup. Sitting in the sun. Feeding me hot chocolate and buttered fruit muffins. Staying on the phone with me. For 3 hours. Until I finally whisper. wo ai ni. Giving me a peppermint tea. Because I said I ate garlic again. I’m Intolerant. Sorry. Teaching me. Forgiving me. When I hurt you and didn’t even realise. When I hurt you, and I meant to hurt you with my petty words like a thousand toddler fists. Listening to me cry. Sob. Again and again about some dumb ex. Waiting even though I missed three buses, and am late for over an hour. Letting me have the last crab nugget. Giving me the eye of the fish,

Featured image courtesy of author.


In a dream, you saw a way to survive, and you were filled with joy.


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