Back to Issue 2

Butterfly Tattoos by Lois Mintah

The kisses linger:
tiny, butterfly-shaped imprints
burned into my skin,
the backs of my eyes.
Lavender-winged itches
I can't scratch.
Don't want to blink
for fear they will fade:
my butterfly tattoos.

Your love is nectar
from cold urban flowers.
I drink it as the concrete
tall buildings desperately drink
the last rays of the day
before falling into night.

A monarch butterfly floats among
traffic.
The lure of small, city gardens
has become a dangerous gauntlet run.
Fly home, little chariot of fire.
Rest your wings
on milkweed
in country fields.

Until Nothing's Left by Lois Mintah

Everything strains and stretches:
my bright disposition, grin,
ability to fake that you're just my friend.
Your lips and eyes present themselves
to me: their softness and warmth
shelter me from the storms of life
even as they create a new one.
But I'll keep loving you
until there's nothing left.
It hurts:
there's a song I can't sing -
like the little mermaid, my voice
belongs to another.
Each night the moon shines in the sky
and I am out there, praying
you will find
a fragment of the happiness I have found with you.
Someday you will know how the moon
pulls the tides,
because love will pull you to me.
Even though I have become sea foam,
or a shooting star,
and nothing is left.

Where The Thunder Hides by Lois Mintah

Where the thunder hides
there is a great black wolf
with red eyes.
He wears a horse blanket
and is tended by a young girl.
Where the lightning is tethered
is a silver bird:
the Thunderbird that even the young,
who have left the reservation,
can recognize.
Where the rain sleeps
is a lovely maiden
bearing corn and bean plants,
wearing a soft dress of white doeskin.
And where I hide -
where I am tethered -
where I sleep -
is a dark alley.
I am nowhere near the land of my people.
But I will return someday,
bringing a storm on my heels.