i was 15 when Kokopele knocked me up and i was ripe, though unready -- every day i visited my spot at first to relieve, but then to sate allure -- invisibly appeared, mysterious pleasure day and night throbbing at the thought of that strange spot. i clawed to sate in dream what goddess women understand in noontide reveries, sultry swells of swoon i don't know how my belly grew was it at that drafty wall or by the reeds.. there were several spots it seems. i am ashamed i was told to be ashamed of this belly i love, and body cravings carved into my soul, covert sudden lusts set in stone at 50, children grown and making music of their own, in tents along the streams' comingled murmur moans, he visits each in turns to teach the spiral dance and finish in the seeded womb. flowers glow to settle racing heart with truth infant recognition of an origin's choiceless birth and now, i am in force -- become katcina cougar, proud Kokopelmana: the role is taken by the horn -- eat my cornmeal cakes with crooked somiviki smile while i make you mine you can scatter but i will find you hiding purring soft to catch you firm -- every boy and man will learn
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the Hopi stories this is based on can be found in a google book: