we need a god who bleeds now

a god whose wounds are not

some small male vengeance

some pitiful concession to humility

a desert swept with drying marrow in honor of the lord

we need a god who bleeds

spreads her lunar vulva & showers us in shades of scarlet

thick & warm like the breath of her

our mothers tearing         to let us        in

this place breaks open

like our mothers bleeding

the planet is heaving              mourning our ignorance

the mood tugs the seas

to hold her/ to hold her

embrace swelling hills/ i am

not wounded i am bleeding to life

we need a god who bleeds now

whose wounds are not the end of anything

*we need a god who bleeds now, by ntozake shange*

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