Skins
by Carter Revard

Wonder who first slid in
to use another creature's skin
for staying warm -- one bloody violation,
a heresy almost,
to crawl inside the deer's
still vivid presence there,
to take their lives from what had moved
within, to eat delicious life
then spread its likeness over a sleeping
and breathing self, musk-wrapped
inside the wind
the rain,
the sleet --
to roll up in a seal-skin self beneath
a walrus heaven
on which the sleet would rap and tap,
to feel both feet
grow warm even on ice
or in the snow -- they must have thought
the flame from tallow was like
such warmth from fur and hide --
it must have been some kind
of revelation when the life
came back into a freezing hand or foot
after the fur went round its bareness, even more
when human bodies coupling in
a bear's dark fur
found winter's warmth and then
its child
within the woman
came alive.

Sweetheart
by Tiffany Midge

when we make love
press brown skins
& lovely bones

together

& are two half-
breed hearts
grooving

to the same fullblood
dance
we create not only

a whole indian song
(your chippetewa chants
to my lakota tune)

but sweetheart

in the dark
we become the
entire tribe.

My Heart's Friend
Shoshone Love Song

Fair is the white star of twilight,
And the sky cleaner
At the day's end;
But she is fairer, and she is dearer,
She, my heart's friend.

Fair is the white star of twilight,
And the moon roving
To the sky's end;
But she is fairer, better worth loving,
She, my heart's friend.

They Are Together Now
by Luci Tapahonso

they were returning from Gallup late at night
singing with the radio and laughing
he was driving too fast too fast
he missed the curve
the crash the immediate silence
they whimpered as
the warm blood spread into the cold asphalt cracks
amidst the glass and tangled metal their bodies writhed
moaning and crying until they rose above
they left then watching in silence
oh the soothing silence
the incredible serenity
they rose leaving the steaming blood
ticking of metal settling down
the tinkle of glass slipping
the tin whine of a dying radio

they gather with others now
in the thin darkness
airy, light ghosts sometimes they talk laughing
standing in little groups
waiting to befriend anyone
who might happen along
they are happy
on the flat plateau of that other world: death

that quiet pleasure
they are all together now.

Waila Music
by Ofelia Zepeda

It is 1:30 A.M.
Sleep won't come.
She listens to music.
O'odham waila music, San Antonio Rose,
a wild saxophone and accordion.
In her mind she dances.
She dances with a handsome cowboy.
His hat is white, his boots are dusty.
They turn in rhythm together.
They don't miss a beat.
Their hearts beat in sync.
Their sweat is mixed as one.
The earthen dance floor beneath them,
the stars and the moon above them.
That rhythm, that rhythm,
it makes them one.

Third World Short Stories | Third World Quotes | My Third World Works

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