TANTE
consecrated by fire
her throat cracked
now caves left behind
a last wind
hollowed into voice
her throat moved up and down
fast
as she worked to connect
what was left on her sentences
a beginning is a return:
condensed
interiorized womb
enfleshed urgency
to survive, I did not die here
I met you
in your own womb
then, returned to mine
———–
the making of monuments
or the world wide womb
the bones hike up
this land and produce
fissures where
it collects
collisions
of cracked skin
—
i knew all of you here, once
the wears and tears of you
pressure
rising now
as the breath of
a growing thing
—
and the cracked earth
when you rise
does not crumble
does not come out
in one piece
because growing underneath
is a generation.
———-
Poems © Cindy Rene
Image: Bianca Van Dijk via Pixabay cropped