TAGI QOLOUVAKI

Tagi is Fijian/Tongan on her mum’s side and German/English American on her dad’s – altogether a very mixed, queer and feminist PI. Born and raised in Fiji by a few beautiful men and many powerful women, she migrated to the United States aged sixteen. Now, twenty years later, she plans to move back to the islands, to study and teach and pen a few more poems.

Untitled

how do i describe

how my body wakes, moves

to the heat of your words …

like pele’s footprints waken kīlauea.

your words so hot they’re molten

syllables slip and slide, thickly,

stir my depths

shift plates between our nations

send your seas against my shores.

your tongue, your vowels,

so deep i ride waves against and through them

my skin become your ocean

your blood my tide …

i tattoo you with teeth and nails

dreams and tongue;

tattoo you deeply

stories old and new

into the skin of my heart

in indigo, in ink,

with shell lip and coral dust

memory and desire …

i will trace lines

undulating

spiralling

reaching

like our bodies for each other …

yes, deeply

into skin

lips, tongue and breath, till

my scent becomes yours

your texture mine

your words

quicken

my blood-tissue-cells

like pele

i am ready

to birth new islands

darken fresh soil

with this love …

we will grow frangipani

with creamy yellow centres

papaya and blue taro

sugarcane and mangoes

… with this love

Tell Me a Story

He vows I am planted beneath the Frangipani

Promises I am seeded beneath the Bua.

He has his father’s tongue,

Owns his mother’s languages.

They sing honeyed songs together.

He has even tamed the pālagi one –

It rides his tongue

And he is fertile with story.

Deftly, he weaves tales

Like the finest mats

Constructs memories

Tapa-tapestries

Stained in soil and

Colored with song.

We store them,

Cultural currency for the next birth

Death and wedding.

We carry them

To make us

Real.

He is a teller of tall tales, Talanoa

But what are stories if not lies

Though sweet as vakalolo

Cleaved to our fingers

Floating our souls

In the fat of coconut?

What are memories if not construction:

The storyteller as tattooist

Marking,

And not marking,

Brown skin.

And They say

If your pito-pito is unplanted

You will wander

They say

If it is unplanted

Home will elude you

Well mine is buried in story

Planted in a tall tale

And I wander

Yes,

And home is a story

Home is a story where the Frangipani flowers.