this yellow, red, flowers of amber
burns
trickles over as if pollen,
staining the skin and any object it touches,
like a vampire,
leaving its teeth in skin,
leaving the blood to leak from the site of shock,
from the site of the bite,
leaves it pink and purple,
like bruise marks,
in unexpected places,
found later,
during the hunt,
the blue lagoons,
the waters of Dark green,
the deep holes full of the underparts of trees,
offerings, as rituals,
raizes, reminding us that there is depth in the darkness,
the manglas, growing wildly,
like my Soul, free, without shape,
without need to be controlled,
the abuelos, these cenotes,
the elders,
who our the masters of cleaning,
the estromalites, taking in all the pain for us,
removing that which no longer serves us,
That purge through and through,
alien,
like the roots of the lotus flowers,
again wild,
again, displaying its wild fruit,
the Lotus,
I lay in the water,
I ask her to assist me,
with this pain across my chest,
this trickling blood thats leaking,
from a heart that keeps loving,
Ask her to soften the hurt,
ask her to clean me out.
so I may stay steady and rooted in this world