Monday, April 28, 2014

relationships | day 27 | poetry month |

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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...

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