Bleed In The Amazon by Mia

I’d rather focus and relax, sacrifice these white pants to my cause to wear the blood with

honor. Let it stain and soak and stir the minds of people like it stirs my bowl.

I let the river have a taste, since I am on this 16-hour drift down to further depths of the

moist jungle flora. It feels appropriate, as I am swallowed deeper to the womb of Latin

America, I bleed too.

I feel the pain she must feel and the relieving flow, the purge of the old, let it flow down,

down and away to some further distance, another vortex.

The Amazon has a long, elaborate genital system, hermaphroditic and inclusive of every

method of procreation.

Also death here comes in all forms from stings, strangulations and savage attacks to

poisoning and decay of age - lifespans are shorter and more intense in the jungle.

I pour my blood into the river, imagining how it excites the piranhas, waking them from

their slumber to wonder about this female who

se cycle is ready to share its wisdom with

the world.

My trickle always begins unannounced, suddenly deciding today is a good day to let go,

the lessons have been learnt, digested and ready for the world.

I am not in charge of the cycle, or its wisdom, but I am starting to notice the recurring

patterns: a burst of excitement (with some insanity) days before and the important life

decisions crossing over, new loves appearing and fading, as she makes space, like a

spring cleaning.

Like an old wise queen I wish to bleed, for my people, for my nature kingdom, for

abundance, for integrity, for LIBERTY to do so FREELY!

Bleed in the streets,

bleed at home in bed,

bleed in the company of my mistress, unashamed.

The waters around me start singing to the blood

to come out, come out & play.

Pour into this river basin

red as the lush earth

Exciting Life, feeding Death

- ‘Pour your blood fearless’, the mother whispers

‘it will get to the right current, feed the anacondas prayers to the jungle

the blood is in you to purify

now give it to the great river to multiply

and the songs will come, your tongue will sing

the waters will clean and rush us together again.’

Undammed this queen flows incessantly to the sea

slowly boiling, smelling more of earth than air

She sings a mighty song, flowing with gravity

holding the spirits within the sediment

The jungle breathes me,

becomes me,

my skin crawls, my eyes flash, and a howl sounds in my guts,

as my spine moves like the serpent.”

Mia Mor, March 2017

On a boat from Peru to Colombia via the Amazon

Mia, 29, Amazon