why don’t we make music from her body?

legs running while they remain still

her body stretched out as she balances

the world on her thighs?

chest: expanded, breathing

the arch of her back still

linking the bones before her navel

and the way the legs shoot out

straight and herd apart,

like two lovers dancing

around her vulva

Every day I wake to this.

the way the spine clicks when we unfold

arms almost brushing the stars

head tilted so far back in rapture

one could kiss the skin of our necks

we dance with two pearls on our chests

that draw down to the crease between our legs

we paint mirrors of the fire on our lips

that remain red even in the darkness.

we fold in soft pillows of apricot,

our limbs joint in sync with

skin aching of almonds and poinsettias

and strawberries.

we are made of a dozen flowers

and hold fragments of powers

the earth was too tired to carry.​​​​

––her body

I once went to a library

That gave out words to rent

And sounds that belonged to the universe

Were bought and then sent

I once went to a store

That sold smiles for a penny

And laughter for a couple cents

I once went to a funeral

Where every tear was collected

In plastic cups

And then thrown in the sea

I once went to a wedding

Where the bride and groom couldn’t hold hands

To kiss it was a sin

I once went to a bakery

Where the baker had to buy every wheat strand

And breads that were made

Had to be sold by hand

I once went to the ocean

Where we could only swim for a bit

And then have to pay again

I once went back home

Where a monitor looked me down to the bone

And my mother couldn’t care

For in this society it wouldn’t be fair

I know its a cliché title

but I'm laying out my memories on a dish

on an evening where the moon was still visible

when the entire sky spread out before me

the pure picture of our Virgin Mary

with her rosy garments

and sins cured by candled light

and I think "at least the blood in my veins is still flowing"

no matter the distance that grew in my heart

it is a certain feeling

the one I imagine when I hear the word "star"

and If our sky turns out

to be a blue glass wall

as us as the specimen

well i'd reckon that's a plot-twist

and that tree would still be beautiful

whether its roots were real or not

I am trying to prove a point here

and I wish I could be clearer

but my ideas are left unfinished

and my intentions couldn't be dearer

you see, there's a palace in my mind

I stride into when I'm weak

though the emptiness rarely leaves me

and I come out cold and meek

my youth had felt stretched out before me

with a childhood of blind stages

and a few memorable flashes

the sound of Velcro locking my feet in place

a certain smell of marmalade in the air

everytime they called it "our home"

with wrapping paper torn

some tickets to the fair

if I squeezed for more information

I still can recall playing with melting candle wax

a scent of burnt vanilla on my fingertips

as a way of getting in touch with my past

I still draw on car windows

the condensation crying tears of remembrance

and the first thing I do when I wake up

is take another ride on the carousel

and accept whatever horse I get

like when you're swimming against the tide

and you remember to breatheso you can adapt to the salt stinging your eyes

it's cold I whisper

and you used to wrap me in your sweater

the sun is too bright I'd say

and your shades would gently be lifted on my nose

now all that's left is the empty silence

and the gravestone that always knows

There was once a forest, upon which many travelers stopped to rest as they went well on their way to trade spices, copper, and silk. The weary wanderers stopped, and admired the spectacular view of the forest’s oaks and pine trees, scurrying rabbits, and herds of wild deer. On this very day, a trader passed by with an axe and wished to see if lumber would receive much favor in the market. This being said, the young man swung his axe and chopped down a tree in a grove of four. Now it so happened that these trees had recently been arguing and competing over space, as their seeds had been planted too closely together years ago and their branches had begun to intersect with one another’s. One of these trees, a grand oak, had been delighted of the traveler’s decision, and received a large supply of space once his neighbor had been cut down and hauled off bit by bit. At night on that very day, the oak watched in amazement as the clouds tore each other apart. The spirit of a woman emerged, and calmly walked towards the oak. She claimed to be the ruler of all living things and the oak, scarcely believing her, laughed as she promised misfortune for his greed. The next day, the traveler returned once more, and began to hack away at the oak’s neighbor. As the other tree crashed to the ground, the oak felt a sudden thrashing pain in one of his branches, and was horrified to realize that the traveler had accidentally ripped off one of the branches entwined with the other tree. The traveler took no notice and pulled the tree’s trunk to the ground, slowly bending the oak’s too. The devastated oak watched as the traveler walked off to the market with a bag full of lumber. Out of his sheer greed and delight he took in the misery of others, the oak was forced to live the rest of his life in an insufferable condition. To this day, you can still see every oak bent, forever falling towards the ground as its neighbors once had many years ago.

we used to hold the stars together

chanting love to the sky

now you've turned all bitter

making rain feel like cries

the summer dew gently held our blanket

picnics under the forever sky

now you breathe harder

coughing smoke into our kisses

and screaming that you've arrived

knocking pebbles at my window

singing to me late at night

now you say you're too tired to love

that it's too difficult to rise

in church I saw you in the pews

speaking to your special God

now I hear your deepest prayers

asking for enough money for another pack

you used to whisper that you loved me

now your silence speaks as to why

the money that I used to have

was slowly leaking

giving reason to help you

no asking why

your empty loving melts into my heart

you can no longer look into my eyes

please

i need to know

what was the purpose of your lie

for it only served to divide

i used to blindly love

and kiss with my eyes closed

but all these false stories

have come to remind me

of all the lacking in you and I

your adoration has turned to lust

with no true reason under the crust

can't you stop this

we're caving in

you're making me play hookey

just to pay for your sins

out on the street is where our love lies

supported by strange men

and blatant lies

where we once made love

has become your den

while i stand outside in the frozen rain

and wait for a man in a cab

to call my name

so I can show you once again

how much I loved you

throwing on the table

some dollar bills

you heal me with scabs from your losses and swoons

They

Straight from birth

Clothed in heavy rags

That marked their skin

And the pungent odor of failure

Like scars on their bodies

The label of society

So dense and inevitable

Learning their first steps as toddlers

With weights chained to their feet

And their first word

Bursting with a heavy accent

Inescapable

Yet who is to say

That their rococo rhythm shouldn’t be?

That their weights aren’t truly their wings?

Can you simply not see me

Because of my disguise?

Blonde hair and shining green eyes

Tell me

Have I taken you by surprise?

No remnants of a thick accent

Or olive skin that you could surmise?

I was born

With a different ability

The ability to rise

But now I’ve realized

That without this skin

Everyone could see the sky

And I’ve showed you

That

In the blink of an eye

There’s no difference

Between you and I

I’ve served justice in disguise

And forever changed the way you think

About who can fly

They may not all have glittering eyes

Or be wealthy with the fruits of immediate knowledge

But there are some with the determination

And the will to spark a fire

When will you come to realize

That our resources aren’t to be advised?

Living life on what they could find

Yet their strength is not to be undermined

For when discoveries are finally made

It is us

Whom are praised

For our findings

This hindering label of latinos

That helps us grow