I saw my hips as a mountain range
Flowing in a way only a river could form
Receding and pushing away at a bank
Once given birth to by stars

Shaped through a millennia of mothers
Going to battle with their own mortality
So that each of us may one day plant our own two feet in earth
And utter words that become our own battle cry

For when they think their laws reign over
Our bodies
Dripping slurs that make cracks in sidewalks of crooked alleyways
May they see the grass that grows there too
a reminder of the earth that each of our own bodies are made up of
And because
And with
And for
And one day beneath

As their words leave us contorting metal wire into shapes no body should endure
May they be reminded of caves and of the depths of their own true being
Souls and stalagmites
The ways of ancients
Far older than we

For they know the secrets of a body
Of a body
Of a body
That does not need to think about what it needs
For it is cared for by water, by earth; and by each other

The millennia of daughters that comes thereafter
Will know tending and planting,
The cultivation of a true nature
Untouched by poison spewing from factories and signatures that sell our rights and bodies
They will know true revolution
for it is not in doing
it is in being
Sovereign
in their true nature

Shea B.