From KÉYAH: SAAD
If the lights go off any one moment, would we fear the darkness? In it, we can’t see the corn fields 
empty of corn or weeds growing in the abandoned mine.
In this darkness, I will
write a love letter to winter and call it by its real name
language, after all, is the only sound it can hear
I will say I am from here, this desert, a home
I refuse to let a border town be my name
Where are you from, they’ll ask
Háádę́ę́’shą’ naniná?
Here,I’ll say. Everywhere—