Ocean Water

i will keep you warm when cold waters flood the present with the past

I won’t let you freeze from the glaciers of pain I used to cause

but you’ll have to feel for me with all the empathy you can find

abandoned homes under the sea where tsunamis used to strike

don’t let your heart remember, you’re above water now

I didn’t know you, I didn’t mean to sink your trust again

I didn’t know myself, I didn’t mean to sink so low

there’s no oasis in the middle of the sea

no way to make it up to you but spend every day

steering us to shore.

I waited at the water’s edge, dried by the sun

seeing your shape on the horizon I began to focus

my vision and now my eyes only swim with memories

of the future.

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Drifting Thoughts

One slim glass of coca-cola iceless on wood mueble by my pillow where I rest my skin in motionless tranquility so as not to sweat in summer afternoon

adobe tile room,

150 pesos rusty golden coins, a receipt for tomatos, and old Motorola accompany the dewy glass as I sit

and occasionally miss my city as she drifts through my head like breath or waves,

and sometimes her memory even pounds against my bones like veins of blood trembling with heartbeat,

she will always be fuera de la realidad, for her hospitality is rough like pavement and her heart a jungle of chaos;

but her Dream is like roses, an oasis to my soul’s reality.

her promise has fed me, no matter if I fulfill, for the wind has always pushed me where I need to be…

Sol del Barrio / Barrio Sun

I did this assignment before but now I feel like delving deeper…

Toes over cobblestone,

tumbleweed, cracks in pavement

train station

blues.

echoes of a suitcase

rolling down a quiet road

one girl

miles away from home.

restless wind

stirs in the corners

of the barrio

as faces watch

from porches of cumbia

and sweat.

soccer and dust

creaking railway

dusk and waiting

for a bus full of silent lips.

fear sits like food

in every stomach

filling us up to the brim

with love for the seconds

we spend breathing quietly

in summer tranquility

near and far from where we’ve come,

chokingly saying nothing

and softly knowing everything

under Buenos Aires sun…

Flavor in the dark

I understand flavor, and it charges my bones like batteries

merengue drums like my sensual soul

I want to spin across the room and drink in the orange lights

the dazzling cherry gin and juice in your dark hands

and I want you to take me to heaven

is it ok that I hold it all in?

that I don’t like to stand up and I don’t like their eyes

scanning me like their fast thoughts?

is it ok that it’s hard for me

to block every inhibition from my sporadic spirit?

sometimes I forget the music and hear only shadows,

and night, and I’ll want to be alone,

cocooned in a pressureless atmosphere,

no complicated voices, 

only starry solitude. flavor filling up my soul

when I can enjoy it without fear,

then we can truly dance-

us, introverted bats and lava lamps alive with

moonlight and kisses and rocks and open air

 

 
 

At the end of the road when I should be in the middle

my life now is wheels spinning,

roads coursing beneath me,

like I’m dreaming, flying in streetlight brilliant stoplight dark autumn streets Route 66 garage lawn dream life explosion firework sticky handed rushing wind pickup truck Heaven…

the problem is I live at the end of the Route and my feet are hungering to be dusty with the road again,

I’m not scared to be alone again in intense black LA lonely night,

instead my atmosphere is tranquilized

like nighttime breeze and blue moon silhuouettes

all the pain boiled in the past is steam to me now and glides off my skin as quickly as I can run around this city and I am fearful no longer, shadows shrink and

love grows.