I thought the sun was breaking through Sangre de Cristo
Mountains was enough, and that
wild musky scents on my body after
long nights of dreaming could
unfold me to myself.
I thought my dance alone through worlds of
odd and eccentric planets that no one else knew
would sustain me. I mean
I did learn to move after all
and how to recognize voices other than the most familiar.
But you must have grown out of
a thousand years dreaming
just like I could never imagine you.
You must have broken open from another sky
to here, because
now I see you as a part of the millions of
other universes that I thought could never occur
in this breathing.
And, I know you as myself, traveling.
In your eyes alone are many colonies of stars
and other circuling planet motion.
And then your fingers, the sweet smell
of hair, and
your soft tight belly.
My heart is taken by you
and these mornings I am a horse running towards
a cracked sky where there are countless dawns
There are two moons on the horizon
and for you
I have broken loose.
By Joy Harjo