Because it is May
I want to smell like violets
and meteorites,
sweet and metallic,
in the earth,
in the void,
with my grand foremothers.
May our lives be kind.
Because it is May
I want to pick spring greens
along clear springs
and brew a jadeite soup
for you, and you, and you.
May our bones be unbroken.
Because it is May
I want to pray
for all the mothers in the world,
Yemen, Syria, Flint.
May our children be made whole.
May the sacred threads hold.
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