"I-Wa-A-St-M"
D. M. Satele >

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All the smallest one
By Selina Tusitala Marsh

Five dusky maidens standing in a row one took off her mask the rest went home to paint the guy who tataued on canvas and bled his stories on the feltex then felt so pressed as to wash his hands over and over in a ritualistic manner left palm over right knuckle over caftans and Masaccio’s plans for perfect dimensions the perfect reader it’s the line over the hill through the face the fish the gold coin the right eye the placid waters the curved door the stark frame the ABC of story and disrupted temporality as they hook arms all the smallest one can ask is does my hair look OK?

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Selina Tusitala Marsh writes and performs poetry, trains in Muay Thai Kick-boxing, and teaches Pacific Literature and creative writing at the University of Auckland.