I sit down,
Near the flame
Riddled coals
On top of a box
That’s made
to cook pernil,
My dad opens it
For the 100th time,
To show me how
it’s going,
Excited,
This is the first time
They have done this
Since they moved to
This little town
Of broken arrow
Oklahoma,
He hands me a beer,
Sits down and tells me
Of past heartbreaks,
Even the ones before and
After my mother,
That I should
Stop with the
cigarettes,
Lectures,
I sit and listen,
With a new perspective,
Skinnier than I was last time
I was here,
With how good the food is
I might leave with the pounds
That shaded in the shirts
That I wear,
My little brother,
Playing the piano
He got for Christmas,
Wearing a grinch shirt,
My uncle comes in,
Sits down and talks about
His time with my great grandfather,
I find myself happy,
Listening
Invested,
In times of loss,
Of regret,
Reborn,
A Red Baron,
Among the ashes
Of what once was.

Es tanto,
Lo que eh callado,
Muchos espacios
Entre palabras
Que bajan
Las nubes a tus
Pies para
Acolchonar el
Piso que caminas,
Y con un bulto
De rayos de sol,
Camino para
Cuando tus dias
Caigan desvelados
Y la noche mucho
Más oscura de lo normal
Esconda tu sonrisa
Entre las sombras
Y la angustia
Abrirlo y alegrarte
Con la calor de
Un sábado
En donde las
Lluvias descansan
Y los pájaros cantan
Entre la gente
Libre de un día
Más de trabajo.

I think back
To those moments
Where you can grab
The rays of sunshine
That rarely come through
The clouds of a week
Of rain.

Or the blankets feel
Like the hugs of
A past lover,
Compassionate,
Like the ever haunting
Weight of the person
You truly loved.

And the night
Serves as a companion
As you gaze up
To the stars,
Wondering if they
Ever feel the need
To gaze back.

The skeleton of the trees
have gotten their color back,
The cats play among
The fallen leafs,
All while a hand grips
And holds tight unto
My chest.

I’m waiting for the night
To show it true colors,
So I can feel at peace,
And let go.

Ay, despertador en las mañanas,
En taza de cerámica
Tan ancha como el cielo
O tal vez como la tierra,
Te creo entre temblequeo
Y la serenidad de una
Noche estrellada.

I’m sorry
It’s inevitable,
It disappoints
And discourages,
It runs its course
Upon watered
Eyes and calluses
On the palms
Of your hands,
Despite all
Of that,
There’s dishes
To be made,
And cat litter
To be cleaned,
And people
To meet,
And storms
To prepare for,
And there will
Be someone to
Love,
Don’t let it
Get to you,
Despite.

Me compre una
Cafetera de estufa,
Prendo y caliento,
Y me siento a
Esperar la chilllaera,
El olor corrumpe
Las cortinas y las
Toallas, abre neveras,
Y limpia migajas de
Pan en la mesa,
Pesado en las arrugas
Nuevas que crean
Valles en mi frente,
Mientras el color de tus ojos
Da vueltas en mi mente,
Invirtiendo en las noches
Donde te tuve en mis brazos,
Atadados entre sabanas,
Y tu , Arbol de ceiba que anclo
Sus raices en mis venas,
Las dejare correr y drenar
Hasta la ultima gota de sangre,
El vapor sube, yo subo con el,
Y me siento en la humedad
De las nubes, peleando con la
Culpa y rayos de sol.

I’m lost in the ever changing,
A cycle of life that everyone
Seems to go through eventually,

I stopped at the tracks too early,
And have been shown the harsh
Reality just before the curtains closes,

I’m left in the dark,
With too much time to think,
With too much life to live,

It has been so long the shadows
Are starting to move in between
The non existent and below my feet,

Leaving paper trails of horrid things,
Love poems, books written by people
Who share a sentiment, and cigarette buds

That change with how much money
I have in my pockets, I wish they
Would start a conversation,

Scare me off my chair and linger
Too long upon my shoulders,
I’m in dire need of a friend,

Maybe a foe, a reason to keep
Going, to claw myself out
And find myself sunbathing

Across blue skies, sky gaze at
The stars that were once gods,
Enjoy a sip of whatever is available,

Because it doesn’t matter,
It never has mattered.

Mientras su cuerpo,
liso donde debe ser liso,
descansa sobre el mío,

y sus ojos,
usualmente café espeso,
se cierran,
cansados de días
tan aterradores,

mientras su respiración
sube y baja en mi pecho,

siento, señor,
hoy siento.

Y en este instante,
eso basta.

Hoy desperté,
otra vez,
tras un día más sin trabajo,
desaparecido entre sábanas.

Chocan contra mi ventana
las 5:00 am,
y me amanezco soñando
con soñar un poquito más.

Persigo migajas de pan,
como hormiga en el desierto,
me desvelo de hambre
y busco hasta la más diminuta gota
de agua en medio de sombras.

Sombras de lagunas
que algún día vieron vida
en el eco de sus ojos.

Necesito un diluvio, Dios.
Manda mares,
ahógame en mí mismo
y déjame soñar con algo más.

Siento que merezco más.

There’s many different ways
I could describe the thought of you,
How once you walk out
the night comes alive
In a whirlwind of Stars
And shady characters.

How the scent of vanilla
That you carry like
A cross upon your shoulders
Leaves a trail that I follow,
My feet tired of all the walking,

I wish you would sit down
With me for a second
A minute,
For a moment,
Share flying beliefs,
Let the night sky
Serenade you with your
Favorite songs.

I would stand
And lend you my arm,
Under a black canvas,
We’ll paint
The night starry.

It still won’t be as beautiful as you,
You are art,
In a world where it seems to be
Under appreciated.

All I wish is to have you
In my arms,
As we lay waiting
For the night to turn into day.

So I can go back to work,
And start again.

I traverse the clouds today,
In search of a better day,
Forgotten eyes,
A momentary break
From what the past
Brought and the
Future will bring.

I look out my window,
And suddenly there you
Are again.

You are the blend of
orange and blue
That stretches
from south to north.
So pretty to the common eye,
So undetected to the ones
That don’t know you.

You are the feeling of peace
I feel when the plane
Shakes to the ground
Just to set himself straight
Before touching concrete.

You are the
Air underneath
The wings,
That takes us
To my destination,
And All I wish
is to be grounded
Once again.

Vengo de Ríos
Que no explican
De donde vienen
Ni a donde irán,
Vengo de playas
Donde la arena
Vio huellas
Que rencorosas
Aguas esconden
Entre olas,
Pero allí siempre estarán,
Vengo de carreteras
Blindadas con
Árboles de Aguacates
y las guanábanas que
No caen se pudren
Entre las hojas que no
Marchitan,
Vengo del olor
Que trae el ojo
Del huracán,
Calma entre tormenta,
Una pura realidad,
Y traeré todo esto
Conmigo,
En un bulto donde
Guardo nostalgia
Y melancolía,
Tu nombre allí
También está,
Y aunque viva
En pueblo
O en ciudad,
Esa isla bendita,
Isla del encanto,
Mi borinquen,
Como huella en
Arena de una playa
Sin colonizar,
En mi corazón a
Dejado mucho que contar.

Back home,
lying down after a nightly walk,
the sky transforms,
a ceiling lit with holiday fireworks,
a web of little light bulbs
that flicker into shapes,
I see a a kite, and a smaller kite,
things unseen in the dim of the city.

Yet, I still feel lonely,
in the city,
Or in the corner streets I once knew.
I rise and walk
towards a home I once called home.

Each step, heavy with melancholy,
Some share the rythm.
Hands buried in my pockets,
holding on tightly,
somehow,
to my heart.

In late afternoons,
When the sky isn’t as
Forgotten by the bystanders
That walk the sidewalks
And the more fortunate
That drive the streets
God turns into a magnificent painter,
With oranges and blues and whites
On the blank canvas,
He lets you know how talented
He is with a brush,

I don’t believe in god,
I’m not a good Shepherd
Or the sheep.

But, do you see the color
Of the sky
When it’s the sun’s turn to sleep?

And do you see these hands?
They have loved and hurt,
They have cooked and baked
They have opened and closed doors,
They have demolished the distances
Of all that is land and sea.
yet,
They stop in between celestial change,
To observe an artist at work.

I’ll sit,
Unsatisfied In the well
In which I dug myself in,
With nothing but these hands
That I have done so much with
And the sky that while
Being turned into another museum piece,
signals me another night.

Are you happy Sisyphus?
Do you ever think
Of the end?
Do you miss the ones
You loved,
And the ones
That loved you?
Do you wonder,
Of the flowers that
Grow to your right
Or maybe your left?
Is it truly fulfilling
To push and push
Just to start all
Over again when you get
That little feeling in your chest?
butterflies of content,
False hope that always
Let’s you down,
Not slowly, or with care.
But abrupt and so full
Of disappointment.
I’d dare think of you
As a happy man,
Camus thought that
The struggle itself
Was enough to fill
A man’s heart,
But I stand here
Holding unto my
Door frame
As the wind howls
And tangoes across
The empty street,
Blowing the leaves
Of a seasons past
Trying to hold unto
My feet.
How can I find happiness
In struggle Sisyphus,
Will it always be like this?
Im too curious,
Too distracted,
Too ready for the end,
Oh, I can’t wait for all
Of this to end,
Maybe then I’ll see,
That as my fingers latch
And my body flails,
There always has been
A smile on my face.

It’s 7:46 Am
On a Saturday,
I’m sitting
in my car
in front
of an urgent care
that opens
around 9:00 Am,
I can feel the left
Side of my face swelling
Up as my gums bleed
Through my teeth
Creating puddles
Of iron in the back
Of my tongue,
I connect my phone
To the radio,
And play the song
That has been stuck
On my mind
For the past few months,
That and the Tylenol
Ease the pain until
They open the doors,
I walk in fast,
Almost breaking down
The glass that fills
In the windows,
The lady at the counter
Notices the bags
Underneath my eyes
From the lack of sleep,
She asks for an emergency
Contact, my face betrays
Me as my eyes widen,
While I think of what to
Say the pain comes back.

I’m no killer,
But every once
In a while
I look at
The knifes
And ponder
A little too hard,
So instead I grab
My jacket and go
Outside, smoke
A cigarette,
watch the rain
Caress the concrete,
Creating little
Rivers,
I wonder
If my blood
Would pool,
Or if it’ll run,
What oceans
Will it find?

To you,
How much city
Do you need,
How much hunger
Will suffice,
You have feet
That will walk,
You have hands
That will do,
A voice that echoes
Through the shining lights,
And ears that could listen
To the beat of the stars
That shine above
The sky scrapers,
The city will bring
Spring and summer,
So dress in color
Since today the wind
Was born among
The rain that puddles
The streets.
laugh, crying will
Bring so much cold,
More cold than forgetting
To live.
And I will laugh with you,
Parked outside a diner
On a rainy day.
It doesn’t seem that cold
Today my friend,
The roots of the trees
With fallen leaves
Are healthy,
Waiting to flourish again.
Oh, how much city we have,
So much thirst.

I’m sitting in my car
Chain smoking,
It’s raining hard,
Rivers run through
The side walk
Making it a little cleaner,
Waterfalls rush down
The roof tiles,
The sound of it
hitting the ground
As thought inducing
As the nicotine
My body keeps
Asking for.

Thoughts of Her
Paint me a pretty picture.

She loved my writing,
She read all of it,
The love I had for Her
Could be felt
Through the screen,
Through the paper,
Even Through my lips
Whenever I had the courage
To tell Her.

I could see it in Her skin,
My words marching
With bayonets and
Strikingly bright
Torches that lit up
The whole room,
My hands rightfully  
Followed,
Climbing up Her legs,
Up and down Her hips,
Moving up Her back.

In days like these
The rain would be
The least of our
Problems.

It would be how much
I wanted Her..

And how much
She wanted me.

In an ideal future,
I’ll have a
House near a river
By the mountains
Of Puerto Rico,
My own cafe
With amazing books
And ever greater
Baked goods,
But the lines
Get blurred
When I think of you.

You,
Angel of the fortunate,
Breathtaking and majestic,
Wearing beautifully woven
Sun kissed robes
That follow you
Like your shadow does,
Only the sweet scent
Of peaches and cream
Shapes you,
Divine as a Greek sculpture,
With a smile that stuns
And gives photographic memory
To whoever has held a
Four cloverleaf before.

I’ll hold your hand,
Walk down the path
Behind what we
Would call our home,
Suddenly the silence
Start to get deafened
By the sound of rushing
Water and leafs that
While dancing with
The breeze crumble
In your admiration.

As we sit on
Moonlight showered
Mossy stones,
I’ll find out,
I can’t seem to
Remember your name.
And while  the water
doesn't touch my feet,
ill get up to keep walking
until my nervous system
gives out and the burning stops
or I find you,
Whoever you are.
To show me how cold the water can be.

We got
Sunflowers at
Work today,
This is
The first
I've seen
Them on
Those brown
Metal grated
Tables, they
Reminded me
Of my mom,
They used
To be her
Favorite flower,
Every time
I call she
Sounds
Okay'ish,
She hasn't
Been on

Her medication
For years now,
It's hard to
Pin point
Her exact
Location,
I've been
Thinking
I need
Medication
Too, and
If they
Were to
Ask her
To place me
On a map,
Would she
Be able to,

Or anyone
For that
Matter,
I could
Be painting
Elk on
The walls
Of a cave ,
Or dipping
My feet
In the
Vastness
Of my
Soul,
I could
Be falling
In love
Again,
All I know
Is that
I need
To find
Myself
Soon.

The waves calm
As they can be,

The silhouette
Of a woman

Reflecting
Celestial beings

Upon her skin,
Matching the tides

With the wet sand,
Covering foot prints

That got bigger
and bigger

The more
I circled around,

Now I float
Towards the horizon,

Feeling better than I
Did yesterday,

Watching the stars
Fall out of the sky

In the evenings
Of a month

I’ve learned to
Stop counting,

I would drink
If I had a drink,

I would smoke
If I had a smoke,

I would love,
If I had someone
to love.

And slip through
The crevices,

Through corals
And tropical fish,

The light feels
Warmer down her,

Maybe,
    I am okay
           After all.

I come in
Into the office
And let the
Lady know
I’m here for
And interview,
With broken
English she
Tells me to
Wait in the
Waiting room
Since I’m early,
So I sit in
the middle
Of a room
Of People
I’ve never
met,
Some of them
Probably
More anxious
As I've been
Before,
There’s a
Mural of
A bull
With horns
Like the devil
On the wall,
And I sit
And wait,
Until my
Nervous
System
kicks in,
And my
Legs
Start to
Twitch,
What an
Eternal
Wait.

How heavy it is
that I seem to find
you in the eyes
of those I love now.

So inconsiderate,
wretched ghost,
poltergeist,
specter that haunts
my every sleep.

Following me
into every store,
every car,
every plane,
and boat.

How could
I ever live
without you,
when it’s you
that haunts
me?

Hoy me desvanezco
entre las sombras
de un ayer.

He escrito tanto
que ya no sé
qué debo sentir.

Ya no lloro
como solía llorar,
pero amo aún
como solía amar.

¿Será crecer
el no sentir?
Entonces,
¿para qué crecer?

Sufrimiento inútil
que trae felicidad,
shots de dopamina
en botellitas de
cincuenta miligramos.

Qué pena vivir,
no sentir,
desaparecer.

Esperaré la primavera,
con petunias y rosas,
árboles de colores,
y un frío
que puedo soportar.

Pero qué pereza
esto de vivir
si no pudiera amar
ni sonreír.

Hoy salgo a las calles
a caminar,
me perderé en los ojos
de extraños,
ojos llenos de vida
y de potencial,

que han amado,
que han despreciado.

Y conectaré con quienes,
como yo,
también desaparecieron
en busca de su ser

I see myself
Tumbling down
The hill once more,
The grass scratches
My back and arms
rocks cover themselves
As I come rolling
Past them,
Hitting every last one,
I cry and plead
for forgiveness,
I ask god for time
And time again
I ask for a glimpse
Of the garden
On the other side,
I bury my nails
Into the skin of the earth
I crawl past the rain,
I crawl past the heat,
The undying days
And remorseful nights,
my heart starts to pound
As the smell of jasmines
Mists down the peak,
The ground crumbles.
And I see myself
tumbling down
To silence once again.

Once again
I stand still
And not like
a tree,
Or a parrot
through
The eyes of
an ocelot
Or eternity,
Or prophecy,
I am but
the minuscule man.
I am Man,
Not the moon,
Celestial stone,
In love,
Amid whiteness.
Or the stars
Twilight thieves,
Sparkled fire,
Fluttering with
The wind.
I don’t
understand
What the
wind says,
So I let it talk
Among the branches,
I can hear it through
My open door,
Invasive,
Running through
My living room,
Through wood
And memories,
Bridges burned,
I close my door,
A black hole,
A deep minute
In silence,
Misery,
Like moldy bread
On the table,
Overwhelmed
With grief,
So quite,
Like loss
And agony
And ***** water.
But everything changes,
The night passes,
A second,
A minute,
A year,
And everything changes,
Rye grass starts to grow
Around my toes
And below my feet,
Life,
Tenderness,
Inevitable,
Beautiful and warm
Like laughing
Or running,
Or drinking coffee.

Aveces me siento
A pensarte,
Y me da con mirar
Las cosas que as
Escrito,
Angustiado
Por la Noche,
Y las ganas
De no poder
Dormir me arropan
Otra vez,
Pero tus palabras
Me traen salvacion
En una Noche
Sin Estrellas,
Cerca del agua,
Tan lejos
Pero tan cerca
De ti mi amor,
Tal vez
As dejado
Un vacio
En este
Vagabundo
Sin futuro
Que tanto amastes,
Y que pena
Que me a tomado
Tanto tiempo
Con la nevera
Vacia para darme
Cuenta que tus
Besos eran la razon
Por la que vivia,
Y ahora muero
De hambre.

It's late
Into Halloween
Night,
I'm driving
Down bagby
Street looking
For a place to
Sit and think,
Uncomfortable
In my own skin
I try to zip
Up a tab
Of lsd,

Suddenly
I'm rolling down
The stairs
Down to
To the bayou,
I put my knees
Up to my chest
And wrap my
Arms around my
Legs as a quilt of
Ashes cover
My feet,
So tired but I
Can't sleep.

I see
The blue
Lights of the
Light post reflecting
Against ***** water,
The bayou rising,
Consequences of
A storm
Not present,
The fish splashing
And the people
Walking and running
And biking,
Life is in the
Unexpected,
But there's always
Something to expect
From a man with no
Destiny.

what a shame
There's no stars
In the sky tonight,
Or a pretty lady
With nice legs
To enjoy the
cold front with,
And I wish I could
Throw my skeleton
Into the water,
Watch it sink and
Squirm underneath
The pressure,

But instead I go
Up the multitude
Of stairs,
Observe the people
Dressed in costumes
Taking memories,
Just to drive
Back home
Under the shade
Of tall buildings
And start all
Over again.

I miss you,
on afternoons after long days,
new calluses forming
from gripping buckets,
on endless drives
where my eyes fight sleep.

Where are you,
my love,
that I don’t see you
or feel you
resting on my chest,
your bare knee
tucked between mine?

Morena,
beautiful girl who loves with her eyes,
roses pressed into every kiss,
I miss them,
every morning I wake
with only dawn to keep me company.

Kiss me, pretty girl,
tangled in a sea of sheets.
Kiss me now,
and later,
on lonely mornings
and quiet afternoons.

Do it now,
as the air fills with pollen,
as spring unravels red buds
one by one.

The pecan trees know
the cold won’t return.

So let me hold you,
my aching hands wrapped around you,
for as long as you are here.

The sun has come up,
Behind well watered trees

With that bright yellow
warm that it brings

I look outside my window,
From the opened blinds

That I leave for my cats to look
Out into the world

And sunbathe in pure light
While waiting for squirrels

A glimpse of peace flows
into me and out of me

I won’t remember this moment,
Insignificant as it is

It still means that I am here,
On a sunny morning

Where I don’t have to work,
Or do chores

The mountains are still
Wearing the horizon

The rivers are still
Marching down their backs

February is rolling
Around the corner

After that the wind
Will sing in March

I’m no longer sure
What’s important

All I know is that
This peace won’t last.

I woke up
On the right
Side of the bed
Today,

I took arms
The day before
And fought a
War,

That waited
And waited
For me, for
The right moment

To present itself
Upon my door,
And the sky
Looking

The perfect shade
Of baby blue,
A war wagered,
On blood and bones,

And love
and emptiness,
Oh, to win
Again,

On my terms,
And then feel
The breeze upon
My face.

Oh, little
Prisoner of
Moments
And the
Materialistic,
Misled
And
Misunderstood,
When will
You find your
Own way?
Be late on rent,
Flip tables,
Argue with
The ones
Who mistreat
You.
Little one,
Things will
Be okay.

It’s snowing.
The kids are outside,
laughing, building little moments,
As they cuddle the snow
In their hands,
mothers framing their joy
maybe it’s their first time
seeing snow in person.

For me, it’s only the second.
The first was barely snow,
more like ice
brushing concrete,
clinging briefly,
melting as if it knew
it didn’t belong,
Inevitable.

Back then,
a silhouette followed me,
a woman I loved.
Her eyes rested on my shoulders,
her steps trailing mine,
as I, spellbound by the ice and the cold,
ran wild across empty, frozen parking lots.

In another life,
I might have prayed,
might have begged,
Might have hoped
for that moment to stretch forever,
but my hands are hurting now,
and the snow is already melting.

It’s April again.
And now
the bulbs have
Sprouted tulips

And the smell of
Hyacinths wreaks
Havoc upon the
Butterflies and
The bees that are
Coming out of hiding,

And the mountains
Are wearing color,
While the rivers
Become their shoes,
Flamboyan trees
And hibiscus ties
The laces.

The spring rain
Have baptized me
And washed the
Dirt off my face,
As my hands are
Buried deep in the
Soil of another day.

I feel more at home lately
Alone and lost,
Learning, despite
The agonizing
Disappointment
I have in myself.

Every once in a while,
I look in the mirror,
Observe the body that is,
And think of what once was.
It has changed so much
In the span of you
Not being here with me.

Your absence left
A time stamp,
Like a terrible
Natural disaster,
One everyone remembers.

I should have
Hidden you,
Like a bad cut,
A self inflicted burn,
Or a cat not meant to be inside
Because you've been told for ages
You are allergic.

You’re right.
I’ve become someone
My dad would be proud of,
And the very thing
That drove my mom insane.

But she’s learned to forgive,
Left hate buried
In the back of the cabinets,
Behind clean dishes.

She smiles like sunny days.
She hugs like she’s trying
To pull me back
Into her skin
Deep into who I was
Before time, chores,
Nine to fives, broken promises,
And you.

I’ve held them
in my palms,
felt the weight,
watched them ripen
and grow moldy,
forgotten on
the kitchen table.

What a waste
of good lemons
they could be turned
into lemon bars,
or lemonade.

But I never knew
how much sugar,
how much stirring,
how much time
it takes to make
something sweet.

When do I learn
how to
make lemonade?

It’s so gory,
There’s never a winning side,
The winters find a way
To stay 1 or two more days

In spring the rivers run
Off their course and
The flowers turn
Into pollen machines.

In fall the leafs
Dance with the wind
off the trees
All at once

And oh god,
The summer sun
Melts puddles into
My shirts

But you know
I can see some romance
In love

And how hugs
Feel like being wrapped
Around the mantle
Of the earth,

And water drips
From their lips
And i, lost.
With closed eyes,

Like a vagabond,
I’ll plead and beg
Through the traces
That fall in between
Your jaw and your cheeks

Just to pull out
As eyes interlock,
No words spoken
But so much said.

Every morning,
when the city still sleeps,
and skyscrapers glow softly
against the dark canvas,
I drive through
its quiet pulse,
finding a strange solace
in the mundane.

The beauty of the artificial
like catching the gaze
of someone you love,
their eyes familiar,
or cradling a warm cup of coffee
on a bitter winter morning.

Don’t get me wrong,
my mind still wrestles
with suicide notes,
drafts of nothingness
beyond death,
or whispers of
reincarnation.

But I’ve been learning
to linger in the sunlight,
to cherish a good conversation
with someone twice my age,
to lose myself, head nodding,
to a new album
on the drive home.

Maybe it isn’t so bad,
even if, some days,
it feels like
they’re winning.

I'm at that diner again,
sitting by myself
in a corner booth,
analyzing, observing,
thinking about this broken girl
I knew for a little while.

Her dad is dying
In the hospital,
Cirrhosis,
another tormented soul.
I'm glad I haven’t fallen
that deep,
but I see the appeal.

I told her
I can’t be friends
with her anymore.
I isolate when
things get difficult,
and I’m starting to notice
the walls,
having too many
late night drives.

Life has been hard
on her, on all of us.
I hope she finds peace
outside the bottle.

I found you
In my skin,
Rushing through
Like blood of a
Fresh cut that is
Bound to heal,
as the trees
Gently extend
Their hand
for the wind
That just asked
them for a dance,
I tremble among
The branches,
Ignored
Behind every
Leaf of a
Flourishing tree

Oh, my everything,
How my heart
Has been forgotten,
Waiting to be claimed
And hold you
By the waist,
Pull you close
Enough for only
The space in between
The words and the
Light of the moon
To go in between us,

But the rivers
Did not form,
It wasn’t enough rain,
And I remain,
Like a small tower
That falls apart
With time,
Devoured by the
Fauna,
Even if it falls,
I’ll still remain,
Like unending
Light,
Or cave windows
That open to
A valley of gold
Covered by
Bougainvillea
Shrubs,
With a chilling
breeze to
Keep me company.

Me siento a comer
después de un largo día.

Observo las mesas
mientras espero ordenar
lo de siempre.

Un hombre,
cabello *****,
piel un poco más oscura que la mía,
frunce el ceño.

Sujeta el tenedor
como un puñado,
lo golpea contra el plato
entre cada mordisco.
Los clacks resuenan,
irregulares, secos.

En la tele,
las noticias murmuran algo
sobre redadas, sobre cifras,
Aviones cayendo del
Cielo, aceite y alcohol.

Desvío la mirada.
Vuelvo a mirar.
Tres veces,
hasta que nuestros ojos
se encuentran.

¿Es odio lo que veo en ellos,
o quizás miedo?

Me pregunto,
¿Qué verá el en
Los míos?

I walked
The exhibitions
Of the zoo
With someone
I hurt,
I didn’t
Feel there
All the way,
I hid in the
Aquarium
And the bug
house,
Since it
Was a hot
Summer day,
Lost and
confused,
I watched
the glitter
Fall off
The look
In her eyes,
Turning into
Flint that
sparked
A fired
burning
All the love
She had
For me.

I would chase the scent of your hair
down dark, eerie alleys.
A blessing, perhaps a curse,
if you were there
standing idle,
waiting for me to reach the end of your trace.

I would look up, breathless,
after rolling up and down
Through hills,
searching for you,
a hidden beauty among the others.

Let me kneel,
offering you my soul,
submitting my will.
I would kiss your thighs,
find all the ways to worship you.

My hands would run
through the cotton of your shirts,
seeking refuge underneath
defrosting in the campfire of your hips.

I would dance for rain
around the beauty marks of your body,
planting seeds of kisses,
waiting for a downpour.

Let me be drenched
in all that is you
completely, sorely
you.

i'm on my way
towards thinking of you

As I start to notice that
The smell of the flowers

That cover the fields
Have found their way

Into my car,
It lays in my passenger seat,

Feet on the dashboard
All while enjoying

The music that
Shuffles through

The speakers,
I focus on the road ahead,

But every once in while,
I get distracted by

The greenery of the
Mountain range that sits

Idle on the horizon,
Cold coffee

And cigarettes fill
My stomach,

I flinch and check
The back seat

Where my heart sits,
Buckled up so

It doesn’t fly out
The open windows

A sigh of relief leaves
My body and into

The atmosphere,
Turning the day into night,

Giving me a new scenery,
With bright blue stars

That shine their light
Upon the street,

Showing me the way,
Suddenly a welcome to

Sign with your name on
It materializes in front

Of the head lights,
I stop at the next

Gas station,
I look up to

The spotlight that keeps
The shadows away,

And I wonder how
Bad can it actually be

To be happy.

Today,
I happen to be
tired of being a man,
I walk empty streets,
That feel just as empty
As I stride on the asphalt.

my feet always
Tapping to the rhythm
Of the quiet palpitations
Of sorrow and one more day.

It will haunt me forever,
Missed opportunities,
The discouragement
To wake up remorseful
Again and again.

The sound of love and peace
That Leaves my lips
Every moment that I think
Of bougainvilleas,
The corals in the sea,
Avocado trees.

and You who looks
at me with pride
Every now and then.

In days,
Weeks,
Months
Like this

I can’t wait
To be happy.

I hope i get out alive again.

I've done it multiple times,
this isn't a first.

But still,
I hope.

No te he tenido mucho,
pero ya siento tu ausencia.

Mis ojos recorren calles,
buscándote en cada esquina,

Ojos que conocieron
tus mejillas
mucho antes
que mis manos
tuvieron tus caderas,
ardientes en un mar
de carne y migajas de pan.

En tu piel,
color café con leche,
me ahogaba
mientras te observaba.

Y, si somos honestos,
amor mío,
nunca te he tenido,
ni cerca, ni lejos.

Tal vez,
nunca te tendré.
Pero cuánto te anhelo.

Te llevaste
las lluvias de mayo
y trajiste
flores de loto
a lagos ya rebosantes.

Sembraste girasoles
que se alimentan
de la luz
en tu sonrisa.

Te llevaste
el dolor de mis piernas
para que pudiera andar,
vagabundo,
bajo las sombras
de la luna llena
en tu pelo.

Amor mío,
hoy te tuve cerca,
pero te fuiste,
y no sé qué hacer
con mis ojos.