Monday, April 28, 2014
relationships | day 27 | poetry month |
I am related to you by tenderness, not trauma.
I am connected to you by a woman, not fists.
I am related to you by the longest, deepest embrace; not the jackal that wears a doctor's smock.
I am veins, lungs, skeleton, mud, moon, cenote, maize, besos on your lips, inhaling the DNA of your wounds.
Silence will destroy his rage
The wind will gather our ancestral dust:
My grandmother's grandmother's grandmother's grandmother was hurt too
And now they come to be with you, to sleep and dream in your wounds...