xiutecuhtli

the young blue fire

gave me a name

by looking inside his chest

taking out a thread

cutting it in ome, two,

gave me one

and ate the other.

xiuxochimeh

el flor de el fuego azul

and a yellow hummingbird darted,

continuing its journey–many messages unborn.

.

.

i sit with a blue fire, still young, not yet huetlhuetltero,

licking the inside of my belly,

flicking an eye against my lungs,

jabbing a small hot foot between my ribs,

and i sit with this young,

llanto. i cry.

el agua de sal washing my belly

but never allowed to enter,

this young grows stronger

more painful with breast tender.

I have no desire to take breath away

or make my breath too harsh–taking life,

but how can i continue to carry

young blue fire

in my belly?

.

.

.

the gestation period de el fuego es largo en el tiempo de l@s gente estelar

pero cuarto en el tiempo de l@s human@s,

longer than el conejo de la luna

shorter than the cut on our mano izqiuerda

.

now i give birth

como no hombre puede

y como cada mujer de arcilla roja

.

la nueva luz

.

let this flame cook our food

let this flame eat our trauma

let this flame warm our ancestors

let this flame sing us our ways

.

tlazocamati

ometeotl

.

 

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