Should it happen
That no human climbs out of this body
I will leave behind my will to love
In spite of
See how it breathes
My longing to heal and take care of and make whole
Ask me of the poems
And I will show you my children
The tribes I have written
To survive the most unholy wars
Ain’t that a royal bloodline?
How the words be fit for surviving?
Ain’t that a kind of motherhood?
To bring something into the world
And not know if the evil will rip it to shreds?