i’m arranged to be married
to quiet my rebellious heart.
i won’t ask if you love me.
i want to be halfway between
the nakedness of the lake
and shooting at the queen.
i want to be halfway between
this immeasurable wilderness
and white satin against skin.
i want to be whole.
the wild tongues of the land
linger on the borders of everything.
i can hear them at night
between my shoulder and the
top of this dress. tongues
against my neck whispering
“foreigner.” tongues i can’t
understand wishing for me
buffalo, bear, eagle, deer.
but this place is not built
for love or desire. only a future
of many faces seeking erasure,
and my children will speak
in all the world’s languages
about this sticky july heat.
