The Wild Unknown

There is something soft and gentle about the way sunlight touches your eyes: the way honey brown haze ignites into orange, oozes into gold: the faceted flecks of flames heat my hips and I melt into your gaze.

I am in wonder at your hands. How hot and warm they are in a desert winter that sucks the air out of fire at nighttime. How familiar and unknown to my fingers. There are still many hidden valleys in your palms. I desire to explore your canyons.

I think of our time together and see a mass of green dotted with flaming ruby and azure comets: Wild Onion, Haymaker Mushroom, Blazing Stars, Lobelia, Cardinal Flower, Blue Vervain, Crimson Waxy Caps, Honesty, and Blue Cohash. The garden is overgrown. Wild. Unknown. Yet there is still beauty in it, in its wildness, freedom to become what it is.

There is something comforting about the way sunlight brushes your cheeks, the way I’m learning to listen to your voice and memorize your breath at night when I have trouble going to bed.

Thank you for letting me enter your sacred grounds. There is magic here resting in the opening peaks of your smile, the gentle sway and wing in your laugh that lights lanterns in my eyes. Thank you for your travelling feet and heart. They are welcome to rest here in my hands.

I will hold them up for they are altars painted with peach pits, velvet sheets cradle your picture here.

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A creative writer and singer, I use my voice to tell stories on my personal journey as a Navajo woman exploring my creativity.

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Yitazba Leigh

Yitazba Leigh

A creative writer and singer, I use my voice to tell stories on my personal journey as a Navajo woman exploring my creativity.