I am a native woman
It runs in my veins, my skin, my bite
Barefoot to twine and leaves drizzle down
As I walk tirelessly through poison brush
To the lonesome crystal waterfalls, white stones
I contemplate my dagger, entering my being
Do you see now my flesh? My blood? My teeth?
What more must I prove? I would ask
But no, I am a woman
Natively