Subtitled "Against an Indigenous Anarchist Theory," this is one of Klee Benally's pieces from Not on Any Map, and argues that labels are unavoidably political.
We have become entangled in words that are not our own. They cut our tongues as we speak. They eat our dreams as we sleep. This is a reluctant offering.
A thread that weaves a story, pulled gently at first. So focused on the line that we become disoriented in the delicate tension. When we remember to breathe. When we step away from these stars and into constellations, we see new symbols have emerged.
Fierce, poetic, challenging.