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Two women.

The silence.

Sisters of moon, stone, and blood.


Four hands of clay and skin pour their dreams on wood.

Compelling voices and curved shoulders.


Truth becomes music and confession, braided hair and murmuring water.

Ancestral gathering of moons and fire.

Rope, cotton, and salt.


Awakened hips, raw beauty.

A heartbeat at dusk, invoking ocean and night,

life and heart.

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