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Poem - ISSUE #12

Querênça

Cresci nos braços da minha mãe, avós, tias, madrinha, primas e irmã. Elas me cuidavam. Penteavam os meus cabelos, cortava-o quando preciso e ofereciam as mechas às plantas ou às águas.

Cresci no abraço e aprendi a ser generosa.

Primeiro, vi as mulheres do meu povo guardar segredos em bolsinhas de caroá, elas faziam fumaça, cantavam
e dançavam.

Depois, cantei e dancei também. O afeto é arma anticolonial.

Be longing
Yacunã, 2022.

I grew up in the arms of my mother, grandmothers, aunts, godmother, cousins and sister. They took care of me. They combed my hair, cut it when needed and offered the locks to the plants or to the waters.

I grew up within the hug and learned to be generous.

First, I saw the women of my people keep secrets
in caroá bags, they made smoke, sang and danced.

Then I sang and danced too. Affection is an anti-colonial weapon.

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