You are the crack of a pinecone.

your mouth is the spring
of a mountainside
river, and your waist
feels like something
which should not take
two hands to hold –
you come when I ask
like a sheepdog in fields
and look up with joy-blackened
dog-eyes, making me feel
as if raspberry cordial
were mixed in with my five-
dollar wine. for me to go over
any part of your mouth
would be a crime quite as cruel
as killing all ontario blackbirds.
and when we are together
and I close my eyes
I see red weather floating
on an amber-green sea
and cattle on hills
running red against the sun.

Looking in the mirror.

eyes like spit-wettened
marbles. eyes like flat
stovetop heat. eyes
like the hard legs
on seabirds.
eyes like anyone’s eyes.

DS Maolalai has received nine nominations for Best of the Net and seven for the Pushcart Prize. His poetry 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).