Buffalo Girl
We're about to make love on a flat
rooftop in the city. She tells me I'm not like the others. I'm softer,
skinnier, my words--slight birds that she can't quite catch. I ask her about
the knife snuggled between her and her jeans. She throws her sneakers over a
small puddle. They splash, land upside down.
She says not all the boys are soft like me and not all are boys. Some are bad men who want more than she's willing to give. When they take too much or too roughly, she drives the knife through one palm while they sleep. Won't they get even? I ask. She smiles, twirls her head of long dark hair to one side and back. I can fly like a bird, she says, and strong as a buffalo. Her eyes are flirtatious. Her eyes flash anger.
She steps out of her jeans decorated with peace signs. A scar over one breast. With the both of us undressed, she runs a tongue down my torso, until she is on top, reigning over my territory of pale flesh. When done, she sings something into my ear. Perhaps, implanting demons into my head. The song is in the language of her ancestors, a language of the plains, miles of drought, of listening to yourself. The lilt of Indigo Sage. I wake up, turn over.
She's standing naked at the edge of
the building. I call out to her. She ignores my voice, maybe is listening to
the voice of Apache Plume. With arms outstretched, she steps onto the ledge.
Her balance is perfect. Why isn't anyone below noticing?
Slowly, I crawl toward her, hoping
to pull her down. Too late. She dives. I run to the ledge. She has vanished,
evaporated. Nothing hits bottom. I too stand naked on the ledge. I watch the
tiny people below me, shuffling, rushing, walking without being paired. One by
one, they look up and point fingers. They yell something I can't make out because
it's too far. They yell as if they've never seen a naked boy about to take
flight.
Kyle Hemmings
Kyle Hemmings is a retired health
care worker. His latest collections of poetry/prose are: Scream from Scars publications and Split
Brain on Amazon Kindle. He has been published in Otata, Wigleaf, Haibun Today,
[b]oink, and elsewhere. He loves 50s Sci-Fi movies, manga comics, and pre-punk garage bands of
the 60s.
Tags:
Short Fiction