Dear Curandera de San Francisco, Oaxaca de Juarez, Oaxaca, Mexico

for Joseph Vincent

you are the launch pad

you are the bouncing frog

the mezcalito

you are the water

still and serene on top

with crocodiles blending bush

taking sun

cenotes where virgins were sacrificed

to the Smoking Mirror, god of war and blood

binding the lagoon

to the ocean in tunnels below

you are the wormhole

you are the woman

in braids on bus carrying canasta of mangoes

you are the hummingbird

wings fraying the air

you are like me 
when i bounce

the curandera taught me 
not to lock my knees

when i fly across the expanse

of agaves from Huautla 
to Huajuapan de Leon

to Teotitlan de Valle 
to Yagul