Wanishkaa: The Story Hunter’s Lovesong
We woke, and he told me that love tastes like raining. Looking at each other, our bodies bare, the memory of our flesh an umbrella over us, his eyes roving over mine, thoughtful. But remember, I whispered, that all depends on how one might see the rain. His stoic thinking paused and he smiled that smile and with the edge of his palm traced the shape of my face. I watched the dimpling that held his cheeks in silence like two guards returning, the crevices that shape his peace, emerge once again. I think that after gimiwan, that the sun’s visit is so much like his smile. I want to tell him that his smile is the sun, but remember that we are talking about the rain, and I make myself quiet once again. I stuff the words back into my spirit, feeling like not wanting to forget my thoughts, but needing to take shape within that place that brings quiescence and thoughtfulness of sounds.
“Well?” I say instead, “How do you see the rain?”
Published online October 10 2018.
Lesley Belleau is an Anishnaabekwe writer from Ketegaunseebee Garden River First Nation (Ojibwe), near Bawating/Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario. Lesley lives in Peterborough, where she is completing her PhD in Indigenous Studies at Trent. She also has an MA in Creative Writing from the University of Windsor. She has sat on arts juries and won numerous writing grants and academic awards, including from the Canada Council and Ontario Arts Council.