Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing


it’s okay, grandfather
i know you had no choice
of all your daughters
they insisted upon raping
and marrying
your favorite
the most beautiful
the one you taught to hunt like a man

history gives her so many names

but now i exist
your eighth-great-granddaughter
a little white skinned
poet warrior
who can taste blood in her mouth
a tongue
fierce as an arrow

we remain

we are ancient

we are older than their gods

and i haven’t forgotten

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