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  • Writer's pictureHillora Lang

Mitochondrial: To All My Grandmothers

Is it possible for me to still be me, to ever be me - have I ever been me? I am beginning to know you know, all my grandmothers.

Hovering within me, your strands twisting mitochondrial DNA leading back to your lives, weaving into my own. Weaving

my self.

Not yet done, I am undone knowing you are within me. Blood singing, bones stretching, heart breaching.

Our blue eyes seep frustration, weep loneliness, fill wells of joy and pain. Did all my grandfathers wipe away your tears, my tears, hold us upright against the weight of living?

I wander alone through my forest, huddle alone in my cave, swim in starfish clouds waiting to know me and find

I am all my grandmothers.

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