Smoke
I met her somewhere,
it's not important where.
We undressed in my bedroom.
I placed a cup of water
on the nightstand.
I took off her shoes
and settled them
by the door.
She said she
kept her shoes
by the bed side.
She slid herself from the bed
and I watched her naked body
as she bent down
and brought back her shoes.
She tied the laces together
and placed them at the bedside.
(When she was a kid
her family's house burnt down.
She remembered standing
outside while the sun
rose across the plains.
She stood as ash covered her body.
She didn't cry.
She was angry
and spat at her feet.
There in the dirt driveway
she stood without wearing shoes.
Her feet were cold.
She wore only underwear
and an old t-shirt
of her fathers.
Her siblings weren't
wearing shoes too.
She was wrapped
in a black, wool blanket.)
In bed, I pulled her close
and I smelled smoke
in her hair.
I slid into her furnace.
The Fighter
She threw ice cubes at me
from across the room and laughed.
She was the only woman in the bar.
The lighting was too bright for my tastes.
Small towns always seemed scarier than cities.
It was the closeness to other people I didn't like.
I sat in the corner booth and nursed my beer.
She swung her body from the barstool
and strolled over to me.
Her drink was in hand,
her summer dress was red,
her legs shined
from the green neon lights.
I saw crazy in her in walk.
She plopped down
her chunky body
across from me.
"What are you doing here Indian?" she said.
I sipped my beer and relit my cigarette.
"I'm doing it," I said.
"It's good," she said, "they didn't kill us all."
She was a Turtle Mountain Chippewa.
She offered to buy me a drink.
I declined.
"That's okay," she said,
"I was just being polite."
Her knuckles were scarred.
She was a fighter.
I felt she wanted to mate.
I was exhausted from my day job.
I wanted a quiet spot
to sip my night down.
She grabbed my wrist and smiled.
I brushed the inside of her forearm.
"You're a tease," she said.
"Lady," I said, "I'm not in the mood."
"Fine then, be like that."
"Thank you."
She stood from the booth,
straightened her dress,
slammed her drink on the counter,
and walked out the bar.
I breathed deeply,
finished my drink,
dropped a tip on the counter,
and ran after her.
