The day came upon us like Indian rain,
And with it, our fruits of labor grew,
Seeds that we’d been planting for months now,
All twenty-six of us, savages,
Nestled halfway between the Florida sun
And the storm steadily brewing in the distance.
When we danced, we sounded like a thunderclap,
Our feet ferociously pounding upon the pavement.
The beads on the hems of our T-shirts
Swung like pendulums,
And our painted faces gleamed with sweat.
The sound of the beating drum,
Thump thump, thump thump,
Woven together with the lonesome melody of a flute—
That was our heartbeat, that was the sound of the spirits
Watching us as we twirled in the midst of crystal droplets.
I still remember his clammy hand in mine,
The broken savage with the big brown eyes—
Two stars about to blink away before the dawn—
He and I.
I slipped off my feather earrings and
Stepped into the storm.
Thump thump, thump thump.
My beating heart willing me to look back.
But I never did, I never did.