If we are larvae on a long, long thread twirling
maybe we won't have to pay rent

                                                                                                                                                                   or pretend our genders.

We can squat in a holiday home
tether goats to the porch

weave fish traps

                                                           carve our names in hearts along the coastline.

                                              & there will be no marriage celebrant, no doctor or surgeon

only calcified, ossified treasures & dried seaweed bladders.

We'll loot some really skux gear from hunting & fishing
I don't know how to shoot an animal

                                                                                                                                                       but I do know how to gut one.

No more boxes piled at our doorstep
no more targeted ads about ball trimmers

                                                    only darning our clothes by the fire under a bright moon

                                                                                                                                        & kissing each other big on the mouth.

I watch your pixels sleeping in the red of your room
I hear my own heart like kererū wings.

I'm learning to bake bread. There are pantry moths in the flour
a green larvae curled in on itself like a tiny finger.