Every night in the other worlds

I make sure I offer her flowers

In the garden of our common stories

My ancestors rest in no graves,

Only in spirits of dignity and victory


Our softness may crack any adversity,

Reconcile strength with weakness, despair with audacity

Even when you despise me

Love is always mon fidèle companion, mon meilleur ami, moléma

We are the women you’d call wild, untamed, savages,

African natives in bondage, but my spirit is free

It was brought to this body to be a light to these worlds,

Sparkles and swirling blessings as I write those words

And I have so much more to be thankful for


My ancestors and I we cry silently,

Our scars, bites of envy fade slowly

Remind us our disappointments,

We tuck the hurt deep down, down inside our ovaries

Until it blooms back in sunflowers, roses and berries

Creating compassion and empathy

Right here, in the nest for creation, the cradle of humanity

Our mouths make color bloom and words fools

Beauty spots and constellations never disappeared

Even under sweat, shame or fear

Only flowers grow on us

Our skin might vanish

Our beauty blemish

Our bodies might shrink, our carcasses might, in the ocean, sink

Our spirits continue

Between midnight envy and midnight blue

To come back to earth in form of feminine creatures