Cheyenne Chenoa

Cheyenne Chenoa May 17

I love you more than the sunset loves the horizon,
More than the fish love the sea,
More than the cold morning loves the sweet songs of birds.
More than the sunlight loves peeking through the leaves of the trees.
If you could count my love,
Give it a number,
A digit,
A quantity:
It'd be every grain of sand on the beaches,
7 fold,
10 fold,
30 fold,
And a million times anew.
I'd run my fingers through your hair,
And kiss your skin,
More than the sun kisses the sky.
I'd love you longer
Than the world could survive.

Cheyenne Chenoa May 17

Three Freckles

There are three freckles
On Daddy’s tummy
And Mommy likes kissing them

She says they’re like a constellation
Like spots on a dalmatian
She says Daddy is speckled

Like when he checkled
From her silly little dances
And the songs she thought up

Or the way her nose scrunched
When Daddy got sick
And when he coughed up

To me, Daddy’s freckles
Were just itty bitty features
But to Mommy they were Northern Stars
On her beautiful, beautiful creature

Cheyenne Chenoa May 17

Secret Society

Outright truths
Must hide

A bullet will land in your head
Masses never persist
Towards unadorned statements
Invite their curiosity
Adventurous spirits along

Compel to decode

Truth

Hidden

Between a weave
Of tangled thorny roses

Cheyenne Chenoa May 17

Lesson Of A Necklace

A delicate shimmering charm
Wearing the weight of my confidence
Draped around my neck
Like a medallion of the finest gold or silver
Wielding a misapprehension for a right of pride

A dazzling diamond
Or rubies, or pearls
Conceit laced in every chain link
Laying over my heart

Yet in the vulnerability of the night,
When the glimmering moon
And sparkling stars
Are the only lights illuminating my form
I unclasp the alluring rivière
Leaving me with just my own skin

I lie it delicately
In the shadows of my darkened room,
The cold hard surface of my vanity

When I glance in the reflective glass
Lined with an intricate gold frame
Then do I understand
The meaning of my necklace,
My little delicate chain

While I may consume my mind in pride
For the materialistic riches I drown in
I will always return
To my simple skin and bones
My thumping heart
My fortitudinous soul

Forever am I in admiration
With the lesson of a simple chain, clasp and stone
My riches may be beautiful
They may shine like the sun
Or glimmer like a fire in the cold night
But they define nothing within me
For in the end I am my soul
Not a ephemeral symbol
Or a fragile chain, clasp and stone

— The End —