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...