quartered,
sliced like a tomato,
red, bloody,
morphed into hatred,
but with all this horror,
I am that bruja,
The one with brail written in all her details,
Skin and shadows,
formed like riverbeds,
laying and growing from monstrosity,
yet its beautiful now,
there are eyes with opportunity,
across courtyards blooming in life,
in love,
alchemy for contrast,
She,
Is the glorious Sun,
The magnanimity in steps,
In the leopard that roars through her,
Don’t step in her way,
There is movement in her being,
A swaying of earth,
She prays to the Moon,
and gives flowers for God through dance,
through gratitude,
through Zikr.