I hear the drumbeats of my ancestors
in my bones,
you will feel them reverberate from my knuckles,
you will hear the elders’ electric tongues
sing for you in lightning flashes
from my hands.
Every strike you land
will cause my own blood to speak to me,
mortality’s voice to singing to me
in salty lyrics trickling down my throat.
The song will tell chant for me to kill you.
I will paint you with my thunder,
and make you unrecognizable,
my name will tremble down your skin,
and remain echoing in your ears,
getting caught in your mouth,
and gagging you
when you try repeating it.
Defeat does not rest easy within me.
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