ancestral wild woman, 2020

i met the wild woman in english
and her archetype inspired me with strength
but i abandoned her after she turned on me
and i disposed of her after i learned of her whiteness.

and perhaps she’s never been
in english
nor has she been inspiring or strong
nor did she turn on me
nor was she abandoned or disposed
and perhaps she’s never even been white.

perhaps
she is what this language cannot express.
perhaps
it is when she’s spoken about
that the idea of her is torn apart
because she cannot be contained in words
nor pronouns
nor genders
nor labels.

perhaps
you can only recognize them
when they look you in the eye
and without speaking
they tell you who they are.
perhaps
you can only recognize them
once they are gone
and after they’ve left their mark.

so
it is through their mark, documented in my archives
that i realize
i met them in subversive pink spanish
a decade earlier
on my ancestral lands.


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