Forgotten Season

I am a blind trespasser
Fingers outstretched scaling stonewalls
Hieroglyphs, prints of hands, smeared
in the blood of some forgotten season
of some forgotten season

This charcoal knows no erasure
The fires of a people, their rituals, their dances
Cider spilled over lips, hissing in flames,
and the dancing, the dancing
the dancing ,the dancing

Lay my levy in my mother’s skin
And when they find me, I will not be lying
I will not be lying

Searching for bones that can hold
The shell of an ancestor’s hips
To carry my memories away
From their open prairie
From their open prairie

(chorus)

Drum beat echoes like an O
Spiraling around the symmetry of me
It speaks in tongues, translation lost
Our mouths, just sieves for fine grain
Our mouths, just sieves to drain names
 
(chorus) x2

I will not be lying