the last

fingers clench futility like arrows
the treaties aimed at our heads, our graves
escape like smoke into the dawn
smolder like embers of a Nation gone
escar like searing buttons on a starched coat
smitten like gods strangled in my throat

fingers clench victory like bullets
the treaties aimed at their lands, our lands
charge like fire into the night
douse like river on Candle’s light
chafe like white on white on white
down like heritage into the soil