Hana Pera Aoake (Ngāti Mahuta, Ngāti Raukawa, Ngāti Hinerangi) is a repressed mozzie bogan with a heart of gold. Hana is interested in drinking sangria, eating oysters, catching flights not feelings, listening to baby making rnb and trying to get hapū by 2021. They live in the land of the wrong white crowd on Ngāti Whatua land in Tāmaki Makaurau. They work primarily in the Fresh and Fruity collective with Mya Morrison-Middleton (Ngāi Tahu). They have aspirations to live on a yacht in the French Rivera drinking prosecco and Moore Wilson's OJ. Spit And it’s too hot to sleep And there is a lone fly in my room that seems to multiply in the night And I’m so frustrated And the neighbourhood cats are in heat And I wanted to spit on you And I resent the sound of cicadas And the chickens croak in the morning And I wanted to kiss you And I thought about what a round the world trip would be like if you actually went to every single country on Earth And I hate the sun when it burns my skin And I wanted to hold you And my friends ex lover liked a photo of me in a bikini And I wish u liked photos of me in a bikini And I wanted to fight you And I hate the ‘Chaka bro’ emoji And I hate it when you say ‘hahaha’ And I wanted to spit on you And I didn’t wear this red dress on Valentine’s Day (because I didn’t want you to see me throwing a dewy romance look and get the wrong idea, but then I also thought I wouldn’t see you and then I saw you and regretted not wearing the dress) And it’s a nuisance to feel so deeply but be unwilling or unable to show it And I wanted to kiss you And I wore tino rangatiratanga colours to show I at least had sovereignty over my own body And I watched a video last night called ‘passionate threesome’ And I wanted to hold you And you saw me but I didn’t see you And your skin melting together And I wanted to fight you And you perform basic kindness And it seems revolutionary but it’s the bare minimum And I wanted to spit on you And I don’t want to be an emotional tampon anymore And I contort the insides of my body when I’m in the same city of you And I wanted to kiss you And I hated the art opening And I don’t want to perform to strangers And I wanted to hold you And I wonder how I don’t explode around you And I didn’t mean to not see you And I wanted to fight you And I’m not the one that got away And I wish I was Barbara Streisand in The way we were And I wanted to spit on you And your eyes looked yellow And I hope you have clean bones, hands and nails And I wanted to kiss you And I feel afraid when you look at me And everything feels so easy, breezy, beautiful, I’m a covergirl And I wanted to hold you And I hate that you wear a Metallica tshirt but you don't listen to Metallica And I hate your handwriting And I wanted to fight you And your love language is big empty gestures And my love language is acts of service And I wanted to spit on you And your jokes aren’t always funny, but I’m trying to be nice And it annoyed me the way you stared at everything in my room And I wanted to kiss you And you wore your shoes inside And I feel like a weed growing through a tree stump And I wanted to hold you And you didn’t come over when you said you would And I thought about your body being like a Pouakai, an extinct bird that hunted moa And I wanted to fight you. And my skin bubbles like it’s a miracle cleaning product And I think about my swimming coach saying, ‘I’ve had a guts full of your attitude’ when I was thirteen And it’s important to always be gentle with yourself And I’m still sorry but I don’t know what I’m sorry for anymore And I wanted to spit on you
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March 2019
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