I Do Want to Hear You

We ate everything 
in the air around the car: 
wet grass sent postcards 
of things no one wanted. 
There were trees 
where my thighs should’ve been, 
barks raised with sparks; 
fires spread across the trees, 
which is to say, we exploded 
& faked our deaths in the outback. 
When you gave me a sheet from the line, 
I knew that it was time to give birth. 
I could hear the ticking in your trunk 
as you slept 
            I took photographs of the window 
& labelled them “hope”: 
I hope that you will borrow my knife 
& slice off these feelings. 


Johanna Aitchison lives in Palmerston North and works as a lecturer at IPC (International Pacific College). She was the 2012 Massey University Writer-in-Residence and is currently in training for her first marathon.