The palm trees have weathered
a multitude of storms
to die so that I can be made.
Many a silent word has been uttered,
bathed in oil and incense
so that I can fly.
And then he dares to open his mouth,
ready to chew my spine
and be tickled by my bristled hair?
He wishes to rob her of her means to flight?
To swallow the magic inside me
and become one with the wind?
I will not let him.
For I will not be eaten
by one who does not dare to ride.