I am
a wild woman
the coyote makes its home
underneath my skin
and rekindled from below my abdomen
a snarl escapes
ignites
like wild fire
I crawl below
I break the silver twine cloak
mother moon stitched out of love
and I sever the serpent chains
that once restrained my calloused hands
once marked red with the hard etched lines
that slither on my palms like rivers filled with blood
underneath the night
poachers march through the horned wreathed arms of father tree
their whispers awaken me
I dig my hardened nails into the broken soil
I unhinge
I rise illuminated
from the Earth's inside.
Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 1:33 AM UTC
I am
a wild woman
the coyote makes its home
underneath my skin
and rekindled from below my abdomen
a snarl escapes
ignites
like wild fire
I crawl below
I break the silver twine cloak
mother moon stitched out of love
and I sever the serpent chains
that once restrained my calloused hands
once marked red with the hard etched lines
that slither on my palms like rivers filled with blood
underneath the night
poachers march through the horned wreathed arms of father tree
their whispers awaken me
I dig my hardened nails into the broken soil
I unhinge
I rise illuminated
from the Earth's inside.
