how do you draw power
from your land
when it has been taken

                                         taken

                                                       taken
and you taken from it
displaced into violence

you took rubies dripping
from my lips
threw me out of my
infernal home
took from me the jewels
in ropes round my neck
those that dripped from my hair
and the flowers that up sprang
from my step
all for your glory

when your reflection
is empty
who do you become

in a world of ever
multiplying black-and-white
copies of people not-you

who are you
when you can't see
yourself in them

mithridatism
the act of
poisoning until
                      you
are no longer
                      vulnerable

to you
  to your
heat, heart, humor

taking you
piece by piece
until I can
stomach
             you
                  whole

expectation is
the heart render
the tipping point
of my beating center

that which he so skillfully
cut out of its home
tender fingers taking willfully
without my notice

there we stay
twisting, snapping, following
each other
round and round and round
locked
in battle unwinnable

teeth sunk into
my thigh
hands at your furred neck
grasping, growling struggle
neverending

in my dreams, I can't see your eyes. those galaxies in miniature, amber supernovae exploding in my heart. they are obscured, benighted, hidden by the gleam of your sunglasses. an edge of light cuts off them, blinding me to you. blinded to you and your intent.

in my dreams, your hands cup my jaw. you pull me to you, I settle in your lap and we curl around each other like paint is mixed. the image of us rippling, distorted, a spectral projection twisting and swirling until we are no more.

in my dreams, we are separate. independent. isolated. I think I can glimpse your eyes, then you turn and they're gone. you push me away. I push myself away. I watch your curls tumble over the edge of your sunglasses while you laugh with someone else. you're unknown to me.

in my dreams. I can't see your eyes.

you
     non-
colonizer

friend, companion, self-intellectualizing

non-
      colonizing
colonizer

who loves, cares, hurts
              [ me ]

lays an offering
of violence
                  at
                     my
                         feet

non-
     colonizing
colonizer

this is how you love
           [ me ]

release me
strip down my skin
shed the timorous flesh
of humanity

release that
beast that lives
in the notsosecret heart
of hearts

release me
let go my womanflesh
let my teeth out
of their prison

release that
tearing ripping ancient
moon beast
of days past

she longs
to stretch her legs
test her teeth
be released

bite the bullet
         jump in
to love
        with me

loving me
         love,
in me
        with me

it's yours
      already

coyote
          tried to take
a girl

          sunk his teeth
in to that girlflesh
          and ran

shot dead
           by the cops
in less than a day

strange
           that we are
judge
           jury
executioner

lawmaking
            legislating
binding
            animals to our humanity
when they know
             nothing
of our lives

            the girl lived
       bearing the mark of teeth
forever

the coyote perished
            for human vanity
revenge
            reciprocity

my eyes
charted the course
of your promising star
across the sky of
my heart

but it faded
died
in the time
you took
to speak

In my dreams, we get coffee. I don't like coffee. I tolerate it for you, even in sleep. you drive us somewhere, we joke in nonsense words in this swimming, changing sweven. each time I reach for you, long, languid, far away from you, my hand misses. I can't see your eyes behind your sunglasses.

In my dreams you lift me, swing me round, tip my chin up, my lips parted ready to receive. romantic, amatory, intoxicating as my mind manufactures what your scent is remembered to be. your curls rumpled beneath my fingers, your lips crushed to mine.

In my dreams, your fingers glide over my skin. I still can't see your eyes. obscured, hidden, far away from me. those voids I could get lost in, soft like trodden soil in a forest of forgotten name, the deep  warmth that I would tear the sky open to see, in my dreams they are shrouded.

In my dreams, we are luminous, candescent, besotted with each other. in love with the coffee made of toleration, the car I can't recognize, the jokes spoken in garbled nonsense that will be forgotten as sleep slides from me, as your image slips into the ether.

In my dreams, I can't see your eyes.

it's easy
forgetting
You.
     the hatred
of Me.

until I cease
          to blend
in

and what has
        been lying
in wait
           emerges

I will
rip
    tear
pull
      
         the sky
open
       asunder
gaping

         just to
glimpse
             beg
behold

the stars
       your eyes
once
        twice
thrice
          more

in my family
I Love You
is silent

a hand over
yours
a meal made
with you in mind
exchange of
laughter

the
I Love You
is seen not spoken

if i hear
one more
white-pink
no-chin
speak the word

                          I n d i a n

I will
scalp
                         Them

if a person is a place
can you return
to them, yourself, each other

( from where )


if we renew ourselves
are we meeting again
is our memory gone?

( from when )


are you returning
or are you coming
for the first time


( to here? )

if this is new,
is this new?
is it an antecedent to our anecdote?

there is no bite in the California air
only a kiss
a brush of cool breeze to a temple
here and there

i reach
for you
into
empty space
inside
of me

beside
me

where we
used to
talk
laugh
tease
only empty

echoing, cold
space
inside me

i gave you my heart
more times than i can
count

each time you looked
at it, in your
hand

you didn't understand
or care what you
had

temp
         tempo
                    tempor
                                  ary
                                       temporar
                                                         y
                                                         temporary
                                                                           r
                                                                              a
                                                                                  r
                                                                                   o
                                                                                     p
                                                                                      m
                                                                                        e
                                                                                          temporary

redskin, cheekbones, upturned eyes
you call me names, pick apart my features
there's much for you to analyze

none of it good enough
even as you slit my belly and take my skin
you think me rough

wearing me like a hood you become
Pocahontas, Matoaka, Indian Princess
you think the thrum of your blood is the sound of a drum

you consume me, trick yourself
Redskin Princess

he disappointed
just like he had
before

and so
she pulled the earth
over herself and
slept

he looks at me
carnal grin in place
with essence of small death
smeared across his face

but these wild nights
existing only in my mind's eye
were nothing more
than the ephemeral kind

vanishing when i wake
these wild dreams and created nights
leave nothing but an ache
in the space left by his flight

we have been dry for years
our skin has grown cracks
deep fissures
unhealing and unending

our bodies resembling the desert
that gave birth to us
that nurtured us
gave us her fruit,
her sparse green,
her shallow,
disappearing pools

but still
our throats beg
for water,
for a drop
of mercy from the sky -

we croak and cry and beg
with chests heaving,
tears the only mercy to come
for petrichor lost

we have been dry
for years
no mercy
no end

crowned with lighting,
she is a tempest of a woman -
wrapped in the storm that gave way to
her creation

thunder is her call,
her name,
her warning,
her crown is her weapon of choice

(there is nothing more powerful
than a woman who knows what she wants)

nails tipped in quicksilver,
her voice is thunder,
her eyes are stars hand-picked
by the goddess herself,
her hair is the deepest black
of the storm from which she burst forth

(there is nothing more powerful
than a woman who knows her worth)

she is a woman wrapped in a storm,
crowned with lightning,
wearing her refusal to apologize
in the ferocity of her smile

(there is nothing more powerful
than a woman who knows what she wants)