"white supremacy lives in the pelvis." we heard someone say this in a podcast once and we resonated with it. after 9 months of living in europe, we began to develop mild but constant pain in our pelvic bone. an ever-present discomfort, an eternal glowing stiffness, gently shining, asking (often) for our attention. we would stretch and shift our weight, our position, our spine - with no relief. it comes and goes, like a tide. we witness its ebbs and flows, tracking the rhythm of pain in response to the things we do, the books we read, the thoughts we think. we are already familiar with the past visiting us through nausea, dreams, burps and convulsions. but now we realize the pelvic-pain is also a visitation. our bones are recalling. and calling us to recall what has been buried in the privatisation of land, what has been tempered through the codification of dance. our pelvis aches as the bones remember the way men invaded our birthing process and burnt our healers and elders. our bones are trying to remember the songs of our mothers. our bones sing out the violence that has been enacted upon us, and the violence we then enact. or maybe this pelvic-pain simply stems from practicing ballet for a decade? or maybe ten years of practicing the court dance that erased the folk dance, is the very thing our pelvis is mourning. (a po.um written by myself and my ancestors, whilst contemplating my pelvic pain and also pre-colonial western european society. first image is a sketch of the pelvic bone by Victor Perard indicating exactly where i experience pain. second image is an engraving by Jan Luyken, showing the burning of Anneken Hendriks in Amsterdam, in 1571, the engraving is titled: "The Torture of a Witch.")