it’s okay, grandfather
i know you had no choice
of all your daughters
they insisted upon raping
baptizing
and marrying
your favorite
the most beautiful
the one you taught to hunt like a man
matoaka
pocahontas
rebecca
history gives her so many names
but now i exist
your eighth-great-granddaughter
a little white skinned
poet warrior
who can taste blood in her mouth
a tongue
fierce as an arrow
we remain
we are ancient
we are older than their gods
and i haven’t forgotten