Afakasi
Half moons ago
people were hollowed-out tablets of stone
spaces were given them
according to spaces they left
some of these spaces were filled with pages
ink leaching out great deeds done
marginalia filled with greater ones
other spaces were filled with fe’e
sliding on story after story
older ones wrapped in thundering fagogo
younger ones rapping ill semantics
other spaces were filled with carved blocks of wood
cocooned in tissue-thin mulberry
these long hollow spaces echoed the beat
of years heavy with folded legs
and the thump thump of old women beating
some spaces were filled with darkness
no light would shine there
other spaces weren’t spaces at all
but blistering mirages
no wind would blow there
other spaces were filled with va
these were warmed with the breath of others
the thrum of matua tausi
even if she was just another mirage
other spaces were hard
suffocating stone eyes
calcifying
in other spaces hovered pouliuli
te kore, a nothingness, a yawning galaxy
into these spaces the young would dip their forefingers
rubbing the blackness on their lips
a moko mapping where they had been
and where they were to go
some spaces have pink retro bean-bags in the corner
cups of gumboot tea on the floor
upturned books in punched-out hollows
some spaces are filled
with the music of hands
fa’ataupati, not theatre applause
eyes open, mouths clapped shut
but open-mouthed choo-choo! malie!
some spaces are filled with no dancing
no flying fingers soaring wind
no shuffling of hips
no siva
no tau’olunga
no light in the body
some spaces are tied with rubber bands
trying to render control over
black unruly spaces
a parting and a plaiting of space
a twisting of space into a bun
some spaces are filled with sunlight soap
from the kagamea
laughing over rocks into the ocean
where a dead Alsatian floats under a net of flies
caught underneath the makeke pier
some spaces are brown
some are blue
o lo’u igoa Tusitala
je m’appelle Marchant
flow in and out
turning space sinopia