Wednesday, March 14, 2012


In the midst of cotton nights
he moaned across the ocean
screeching for the hem
of mama Sosa’s sleeve

reminiscing a translucent gesture
opaque in the confines of his skull

I held on for dear life, quierdo
like sun-dried mud caked under your empty kophers
to imagine, to imagine
te quería mas de piel mia


tears that fed trees like milk, calcium
grows twigs resilient to piercing greys
your eyes never left Sugatra
as you peered into me
and into effervescent currents

claiming that blind, dumb salamanders
were your only reality

poor poor niño
and I mean it like you, your people do:
noting the slight boy najwa in his eyes
water in his waist, stickiness
across fingernails
hesitant of the rushes you cause
as your toes spread in terra cotta
clotted earth.

mi amor, nada siempre jamas.

I still cross the same lines
you planted
into my palm
amongst kisses and slight pinches that
held the woman inside of me
hostage, captive in a cage

and habibi

how I yearned
to pull her out by her hair
shaking and shrieking
in fright,
embarrassment , silent

to sharpen knives in her teeth
and rest her assassin hand
between shoulder blades you call home, where
blood damns into tributaries
beneath peach-blue stretched sky.

Trust me puto

you might as well have the privilege of knowing:
I rub the phantom grease
off my chin and moan.
Clean apron, hunger knife
you beautiful , beautiful brute

ai nene

to believe the buds in your britches
once bucked and bolted
against the breaks in my hips.

to know the sight of
purple breasts
caused you to cower

but that’s ok because
even the most famous artists
in front of rigid earth, unfinished business.

Romance prevails reality intrudes
wasn’t it after all sadhana
that saved my astringent soul?

pulling stems from Abrahamic wool

I slouch
and sigh

I have nothing more in my pockets
but seeds for the small birds
tucked in your chest

te quiero
te quería
te quiero nunca jamas

Dedication: To a boy-man (something like that) who halfway forgot his mission as his hands ran up my pleated skirt. Be forewarned nena.

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