she's fighting zombies.
shuffling around in their sickness
induced stupor.
they huddle together, whispering
secrets, telling lies...
stringing words & twisting
songs into spells.
their only concern is the outcome...
their only concern is that they
win...
navajo woman with her weapons &
shield.
she prays in the morning bringing
the continually widening whirlwinds into check...
sun, moon, earth balance...
her hair is smoothed gleaming against
her head, rolled into a tsee yelth & tied tight.
her hands & voice do not shake
as she prepares herself.
her brown arms & legs are strong
& ready to do battle on a physical & spiritual plane.
but she must do battle against herself...
she must battle the person she was
many years before...
the zombie girl that she was...
whispering & shuffling...
peering from around the corners
of stuccoed walls.
her mind twisted like soft metal
from days & days of living inside the whirlwinds,
hair spinning & fluttering
like tattered ribbons.
...streaming snakes stretching
off her skull.
she must do battle because the zombies
want her back.
she must do battle to save the
future.
the future that looks out from
trusting dark brown eyes...
the future that laces it's little
fingers through hers...
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