Afterward, she dozes
and I go to the bathroom.
I shower, towel, brush teeth
and gums, spit.
look in the mirror
at my chest and my torso –
can see, I suppose,
why she still somewhat likes it –
and that after so long
a time. turn
very carefully,
examining the belly
and the hot
melting butter
pectoral curve;
two sandbags, deflated
and lapping up fat
like a tide on a shoreline.
I grit my teeth,
grimace – chipping
seashells, and my hair falls
like sand dunes
over rocks. throw on
a splash of water, look again
and go back to the bedroom.
on the bed, she lies,
asleep in the scented
darkness, though this
is a late afternoon – the day
comes through the window
like sunlight
on sand under sea.
Poetry by DS Maolalai
DS Maolalai has been described by one editor as “a cosmopolitan poet” and another as “prolific, bordering on incontinent.” His work has been nominated twelve times for Best of the Net, ten for the Pushcart and once for the Forward Prize, and has been released in three collections; Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden (Encircle Press, 2016), Sad Havoc Among the Birds (Turas Press, 2019) and Noble Rot (Turas Press, 2022).
