Take this from my hand

I’ve never spoken to anyone about this.  Until now, until you.

I slept once in a field beyond the riverbank,
a flock of nightjars watching over me.

[…]

I gathered a handful of my coyote’s bones, his teeth,
and strung them all on fishing wire—
a talisman to ward off anguish. A talisman I hold out to you now.

Please. Come closer. Take this from my hand.

Dolores, Maybe, John Murillo

A narrative poem, hard to quote. Very good.

“I can change through exchanging with others, without losing or diluting my sense of self.” The Archipelago Conversations of Édouard Glissant and Hans Ulrich Obrist.