Memory

I swear I know her
That wild ravenous woman
Who creeps in the shadows of the woods
And dances to the beat of the moon
Like mud on my toes or stars in my eyes
She speaks in a feral language
Beyond our history
Yet recollected as though
Spoken fluently since birth
Blood paints her thighs
Belly, hair and hands

All rights reserved property of Alisa Muniz Blanchard

Caked with mud and clay
From hours spent rolling on damp earth
How mysterious the knowing
Of what she speaks
Without memory from this lifetime
And when she raises her hands
In celebration of life
Sprinting to meet her next kill
I stand in awe
Remembering the taste of
The sacred salty womb and
All the moments in which
I knew what my life
Was all about.

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