Afternoon Chieftain

afternoon chieftain
you rocked your horse
in boots and blue gingham
red feather in your hair
tomahawk at your waist
grazing against the downy
“little slaves, i am king!”
of all the toys
of all the boys
afternoon chieftain
king of small things
fine until you fell
red tongue
you cried
your lip split
it is always her scent first
then her body
it shivers against you
in silken robes
shattering through
to your elementary bones
she kneels
back from treetop and cradle
upper boughs you once travelled
from astral realms
first an idea
then a soul
then flesh
and holds her mouth over yours
red tongued
took the blood she gave you
took the taste that is almost like him
a slow suck devoured the pain
and replaced it
with another
“there, there my perfect little love”
she says before going back
to the bed they conceived you
where she stays for days sometimes
uterine
contracting
choleric
a shadow against the window
entombing the light
you don’t trust to exist
 
when he’s gone
you are her sole witness
a smothered gravity
a moon in crippled orbit
 
the bluebirds, their broken beaks and wings
the tv turned to static
her head in the oven
stroking her legs against your hands
disgusted at their fitlh
that you dared step outside
to see blue sky and air
without her
to bury a pinecone in the garden
 
there, there
our failure is indexed there
the betrayal for whores
the devalued worship
are in the remains of syllables
in the echo of those afternoons
i am
an anomaly on the radar
sole visitor to your self-exile
dark as the soil
that you buried the pinecones
a seduction of earth
 
at our marriage i cut your arm
red tongued
lip split
took the blood she gave you
never noticing how you rubbed your fingers
to remember the silk
 


Sinta JimenezSinta Jimenez is a writer, journalist, and editor. She is known for her short fiction, poetry, and fashion journalism. She received her Masters in Fine Arts from Otis College of Art and Design.

 

 

 

 


 

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