April 30th

I hear open red drums
beneath breathing,
red drums that go to wreck spaces
that are woman

god, the backlit sorcerer,
sends his cows, honey breathing
with inside millet widths,
down the storm drain,
pots of incense, barley and guavas,
sacrifices to water

a curled hand cup
a pinch of smoke for a woman's heart
a cup of water for her womb

and I with toes curled on the cliff edge,
lowing of cattle eyes under red drummed water
spear points scratching my shoulders,
I holler the hunting song

I wear a mamba as a belt
and take down elephants with their own tusks
My shoes are crocodile skin
My shield is their grandfather's skull
I eat bees for breakfast and
use their stings to pick my teeth
I am the open breath
the leopard scream echoes into

I for whom a cup of water
was not enough