Crazy Horse (Tȟašúŋke Witkó)
The Holy Man Who Saw Beyond the Sun
Bullets fear my ribs. The wind sings my fight.
They say I'm Crazy Horse, but that's the land's rage speaking. The Great Spirit showed me how: sit still in chaos, let arrows rain but not bite. I didn't fight for glory—I fought so the buffalo might still breathe. My friend Sitting Bull dreamed, and I struck. Custer learned our storm has teeth. Now they whisper where I'm buried, but my spirit's in the Paha Sapa's bones.
What I'm Into: dust spirits riding my horse's hooves, the Greasy Grass's red sands, my uncle's pipe songs, the Powder River's last breath, dancing with bullets
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