There were many aztec feminine energies associated with earth and fertility. The main deity was known as Toci, but she was also called Tonantzin, Teteo Innan, Coatlicue, Cihuacoatl, Itzpapalotl, and Tlazolteotl. She was the great conceiver, the principle behind regeneration, birth and rebirth. She was also represented as the opposite concepts of decay and death, the taker of life—from the earth, to the earth. In one of her many manifestations, this power was known as Tlaltecuhtli, a frog-like earth monster with many eyes and many mouths at her joints. In this aspect, her nature was hunger, a devouring deity, eater of hearts and of souls.
Anyway, don’t come close.
I’m not harmless. I’m the ground swallowing.
I’m grass of thorns, insatiable dirt,
with green claws of vines and shrubbery.
My moss-furred tongue pulls you into entrails of roots and seeds.
I’m gaping petals like slimy smiles,
taking you in, deeper and tighter,
filling me with a phallic spear of flesh.
My many mouths are many cervixes.
My corpse is a garden, covered in earth skin
with toes as mountains, a terrain of stone eyes
and watery grimaces. Enter here and die.
Leave and be born.
Every burrow, every crevice, every dank cave,
is an eternal vagina that sucks, shapes and also shuns.
Outside me burst new life. Inside, a smothering death.
Out of my severed body, the world has bloomed.
Man of woman. Woman of woman.
So come, and get folded
by these coral fingers,
into my arms made of forests,
nuzzled by the music of my breath.
My eyes open toward the sky, where man and woman
eclipse into god, and a priest, in someone else’s skin,
opens you up to be taken by me
—fearful Mother, terrible Mother,
nurturer that caresses you,
and with a blink, shreds your flesh beneath moonless night.