I.
It's come to this, then
After all this time,
This distance,
She's followed me back.
Through deep, dark woods
Forests abundant with
Bright greens, reds
Earth browns
And dark, daylit skies.
There and back
And now she's not
About to let go.
In the court of appeals
I have no voice.
Baritone visages
Of myth and forgiveness
But the truth sits on
My tongue
Waiting to fly
But lips shut
Around it,
Silencing the words
That can set me free
A deer tongue
On a salt lick.
She laughs,
Thinks it ironic
After all this time
You got what you wanted.
One of your blood
Traditional
So traditional he
Could not see the flash of
Hoof
On a dark moonlit road.
Eighteen years ago
I was small.
Slim.
A slip of a girl
With long, dark hair
And deep starless night eyes.
And he loved me,
Touched my flesh
Like it was fire
And I burned
See, his hands are
Still warm to the touch.
Calluses roughened
The soft parts of
Your thighs.
Your hips, the soft curls,
Worn down by
My light, dark skin
And burnt to the touch.
It is me he sees
When he looks at you.
Eyes through me
And I live in him.
Whisper things to him
That he never would see.
And I tell him about all
About you.
About how I love you
Means you're weak
How forever
Means
Until the next one
Comes along.
You see, my girl,
The trick is this:
Bewitch their spirit
So when their soul comes along
They have no home left to
Give it.
Bear down their spirit
With my teeth
Soft voice,
Words of darkness,
Their blood my water,
Their joy my tongue.
Lick the salt
From their wounds
Scratched
By my hand.
The tongue tastes
What the flesh will not.
Come, my girl,
Let me tell you the trick.
Overtaken on the altar of woodsmoke
And prayer
You haven't one
And I'm just
Beginning.
II.
Faster,
Faster,
Harder
The little death
Comes
Seeping through life.
Deadening,
Slipping
Knots
Through the blood
Of our union.
You stay inside me,
Warm, safe.
And you won't move
Because this knife
Is the only place
Where worship becomes
Breath
Prayer
Becomes love.
The only place you feel whole
Filling the space
Where you once slid
Blue and breathing into the hands that
Turned your flesh
To blood,
Broken bones
Knives cutting the cords
Of life and breath.
To come from her
Into his hands
Must've made you
The sorrow
You ache from,
The anger you bear,
At the slightest provocation.
In into his hands
This invocation
This spirit went to first
And now this spirit
Lies under the earth
Buried in the consecrated soul
You wish would encompass
You.
But your soul
Was too big
Even for him to hold
So he threw you away
Another mouth to feed
Another deer to hunt
Another song to sing
Another man to take
The wife away
When you look at yourself now
Is it his face you see?
And who's to say
You won't make me pay
For the sins of
Your father?
III.
I'm not afraid
Of you.
I can see you at night
Watching me
From shadow spaces
And tricks of light
Or darkness
For that matter.
When I turn my head
You disappear.
You're afraid of me
Because I can see you.
I can fight you,
Shiny hooves
Pointed toes in heels
Because I've looked
At your feet
Worn your damn shoes
And I've seen you
Hutuk Awasa
Little Deer
You can go now
Because there's no room
In my bed
For all of us.
Just us two
And I won't let you
Force yourself upon him
When he's weak
When he's hurt
From the knives of your flesh
Imprint of heels upon his
Legs, arms, hands,
Heart.
He's mine now.
And you, my girl,
Can disappear
Back into the hole
In the ground
You emerged from
This one,
Eagle Woman,
Wahaliatka,
Bear Mother,
Nita Ishki.
Your name upon my lips
And the trick is now mine.
I know who you are
And I know
That you know
I'm not afraid
Of you.
About the Author:Carolyn Dunn is a Native American writer, anthologist, musician, and academic whose poetry, fiction, and essays have appeared in numerous journals and anthologies. She serves on the board of directors for Red Nation Celebration, a California non–profit organization that produces media events to raise money and awareness for American Indian issues and concerns surrounding children and elders across Native America.This poem was inspired by Cherokee Deer Woman legends.
Copyright © 2003 by Carolyn Dunn. The poem may not be reproduced in any form without the author’s express written permission.