put your ear

put your ear to the ground and hold your breath ‘til you hear the deep rumble of the earth.

these deep cimientos formed way before you came to be. and will be hereafter. the layers of the impenetrable generating and regenerating.

somehow, you’ve shown up entitled with a deep ignorance of your origin. over time, you were taught to kneel. you were showered with simple coins to crown you immobile. to silence your own deep rumble. to cover your sense of the rights and the wrongs of your deeds. 

you caved into yourself. isolated your spirit. forgot your sword. the sharp edges of your soul that cut with something innate and now appropriated,

something called love. 

lay on your stomach and hold your breath.

hear the gasps of those buried alive under you. the broken nails scratching at the ashes in the soil digging for the daughters and sons last seen wearing… 

feel the drops of cold tears washing the crown of your skull. you’re lucky to still have a head.

she says:

at least i found you, habibi,

amor. 

now make sure to quiet your whole body

don’t miss her whispering in your ear:

i will join you soon.