therightbastard

My mama takes with one hand, and gives with the other.

With another hand she creates, and with the fourth she destroys.

With the fifth hand she beckons, and with the next she casts away.

In her seventh hand the black mother makes a cat's cradle out of hope,

but her final hand moves behind her,

working intricate plans we are not yet blessed to see.

We adore you, Mama-ji.

Thank you, and thank you, and thank you for everything.

Blood and blood flowers are my sacrifice to you.