we are the stone calendar left in el mercadito
we are the tortilla space ship wandering down cesar chavez avenue
we are waiting for the malignant tumor to disappear from marias pansa
its the milagro we are all waiting for
somewhere underneath the sun
we remember we are the ones that came before
our d.n.a waking wailing and walking with the feathered copal smoke
of coyoxauhqui
underneath her white skin
she unwinds the layered mask of tescatlipocatl
jade stone and obsidian mirrors bailando
in the memory of our intention
we are waking sun. wailing moon
forgiveness underneath the streetlamp
that doesn’t let us see all the colors of coyoxauhquis
white skin. all her sisters and brother shine less
under the lights of another city that never sleeps
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WaterHummingbirdHouse 