
primed for decades of occupation and assault,
my body was schooled at twelve
to submit to the theft of my dignity.
dispossessed by uninvited hands
commandeered desire, longing, power, and control.
the invasive tendrils of shame
that sometimes surface
as they move up and out of my body
in sun-warmed moments of sweetness and connection
unequivocally
are.
not.
mine.
my no creates cohesion.
i return this shame
to those parasitic plunderers
in exchange
for my sovereignty
and to any who come after
seeking to strip-mine
convenient pleasure,
masquerading as connection
wanna-be “lovers”
pursuing lustful extraction,
boundaryless, self-satisfied taking
who advance without consent,
heedless of the tender shoots
that grow in sacred regenerating soil…
this disgrace is theirs.
what they recklessly seized takes a lifetime to recover.
Alive.
Re-wilding.
Freedom calls
both fierce and gentle
to tend the scorched and trespassed
reclaimed fragments of my being
where i was NEVER asked.
The mycelium blooming beneath the living landscape of my body
carries the whispered ecological intelligence of my ancestors
and the knowing of right relationship,
how to mend what was broken,
how to return vitality to interconnected systems,
how to protect life even in the face of expropriation,
exploitation,
extraction,
and encroachment
I won’t wait for those who steal to return what was taken.
my no creates cohesion.
there is a post-rupture rapture in this self-determination.
slow touch,
consensual and sensual,
tenderly embodies my enthusiastic yes
even in dormant times
below the surface of my soma,
absent the winds
that caress skin softly,
wanting warm springs
that reawaken rising heat,
ecstasy endures
in this reweaving
of rubble ground
my body remembers how to repair herself
“sí, sí, sí”
stitching soil back together
con el humo del tabaco y el copal
with my voice,
with my actions,
now and across intergenerational lifetimes
i take back
my own feral ecosystem
propagating seeds of possibility
to bloom wildflowers
in the places
that have yet to know love.

“No me toques sin consentimiento.” Don’t touch me without my consent.
—————–
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© artemisia shine, 2026.
If this poem resonates, you’re welcome to share it. Please do so by linking to this page so the work remains connected to its source. Poetry is labor, and I’m grateful when that labor is honored with care. 💚

