some type of adult girl

violettesiren:

My river was once unseparated. Was Colorado. Red-
fast flood. Able to take

      anything it could wet—in a wild rush—

                                all the way to Mexico.

Now it is shattered by fifteen dams
over one-thousand four-hundred and fifty miles,

pipes and pumps filling
swimming pools and sprinklers

     in Los Angeles and Las Vegas.

To save our fish, we lifted them from our skeletoned river beds,
loosed them in our heavens, set them aster —

     ‘Achii ‘ahan, Mojave salmon,

                               Colorado pikeminnow—

Up there they glide, gilled with stars.
You see them now—

     god-large, gold-green sides,

                               moon-white belly and breast—

making their great speeded way across the darkest hours,
rippling the sapphired sky-water into a galaxy road.

The blurred wake they drag as they make their path
through the night sky is called

     ‘Achii ‘ahan nyuunye—

                               our words for Milky Way.

Coyote too is up there, crouched in the moon,
after his failed attempt to leap it, fishing net wet

     and empty, slung over his back—

                               a prisoner blue and dreaming

of unzipping the salmon’s silked skins with his teeth.
O, the weakness of any mouth

     as it gives itself away to the universe

                               of a sweet-milk body.

Just as my own mouth is dreamed to thirst
the long desire-ways, the hundred-thousand light year roads

     of your throat and thighs.

How the Milky Way Was Made by Natalie Diaz

(via smalleared)