Virginia Litany

what was given, what was taken, appetites slaked—
our thirst for dirt, the soil-sweet smell of rich loam—
to know the name of the people whose land we ate—
land which stretches out before me, green as anything—
unclean, dark crescents under fingernails—
as i burrow fingers beneath what is not mine—
harvest sustenance, roots caressing the earth like slim fingers—
Pamunkey, Chickahominy, Mattaponi—
Rappahannock, Nansemond, Monacan—
consigned to thin allotments of the unwanted—
while i swim through a meditative drone of cicadas—
sudden pleasure of the invading morning glory—
and the fields keening with insect desire—

Michaela Mayer's works have previously appeared in Barren Magazine, Feral Poetry, Olit, Monstering Mag, The Lumiere Review, and others. She has a chapbook out with Fahmidan & Co. Publishing and two cats, Sappho and Sonnet. You can find her on Instagram @mswannmayer55 and Bluesky at eurydicespeaks.bsky.social.