Of love

You smell of earth and taste of warmth

I think my ancestors sent you to me.



May Day 

How beautiful is it to know that in me are a thousand who persisted

I come from Quechua

I can hear my ancestors sing to Inti Raymi

The creases on my hand tell stories of Incan warriors resisting the white mans oppresion

I am more than a product of colonization

I am their revenge infused with their blessings and encompassed with education

-children of the sun