I hemmed your illustrations
beneath sickles of moon
gypsied from ink to ink
bartering lips for legends
of the sepia of your tribe
and the tracks you left
on indian summer mournings
to retrace the freedom
of appaloosa nights
and dappled women
flung to the four corners
and caravans of rumors and wars
brimful lamps spilled
in the hollows of my throat
I smiled as if they were not
antiqued already
and painted my breasts
with the hush of your feathers
gathering apache stars
to gild the pale of my skins
the alchemy of fireside
made coppered tears of smoke
and grass stain healing
an ancient howling hymn
.............................
I dipped forgiveness
in the pigment of your barrens
and tattooed damp prophecies
of my woman\'s fertile love