There is a universe in your eyes,
Your dreamlike, dreaming eyes ,
An ocean at your fingertips,
Soft and fluid,
Warm and slow.
There is the way I can reach you
On the tips of my toes.
And I stopped being the Moon-
The way I became the Earth,
Orbiting 'round you,
The Sun,
And everything became brightness.
There is the way we love,
Sweaty crazy love,
In 10 degree weather,
Snow on the ground
And so much warmth on our skin.
The way your hand whispers
Secrets over my scars,
And your kisses scatter hopes
Across my back.
There is the way time has disappeared,
Irrelevant,
Because the eternal
Doesn't count its seconds,
But rather lives it
Like there is only now.
There is your smile,
Soft,
Right before you kiss me again,
Right after I am sighing again.
There is you, love,
My anchor to this world,
My wings to the heavens,
My dreams at night
And purpose in the mornings.
There is you, love,
My Northern Star,
My children's father,
My soul's light.
There is you,
Your eyes,
You.

Se mi amigo fiel,
que conoce lo mas profundo de mí,
que sabe en que rincón de mi mente
me gusta estar
en las noches de media luna,
Y cual beso me gusta mas después de llorar…
Si, amigo, porque no fuiste mi gran amor,
porque solo quisiste
Y lograste
Aprenderme, y quererme sin amar,
Enseñarme sin maldad,
Las cosas de la vida
Que no se aprenden de otra forma.
Se mi amigo fiel,
Y déjame conocerte,
como tu a mi,
Desnudo,
No de cuerpo,
Sino de tu ser completo.
Pediste mi amistad,
Mi lealtad,
Después de todo
Lo demás que te entregué
Que mas?
Si me conoces
Mejor que nadie
De maneras
Que nadie mas imagina.
Amistad, pides.
Y para que?
Que mas, si me conoces
Al derecho y al revés
Si me conociste
De adentro para afuera,
Si nos quisimos
Y nos prendimos
Y aprendimos
Lo que no se aprende
de los amigos?
Y ahora se mi amigo fiel,
Que yo te aguardare
Tus secretos
Y los suspiros
De media tarde
Que me regalabas,
Cuando jugábamos
A ser novios,
Cuando la amistad
Estallaba en flama
Ardiente, viva, apasionada
Y con destino a la destrucción.
Se entonces mi amigo fiel,
Que no pudiste ser mi gran querer.

tu corazón que latía en mi palma,
como una flor en la brisa del mar,
con la sal de mis lagrimas vivas,
esquiva como la arena entre dedos.

como te extraño mi corazón lindo,
dentro muy dentro de mi,
si te hubiera tenido en mis brazos,
que no podría yo hacer hoy?

todo, todo ese blanco,
estéril y frió y sola,
entre tantas personas aisladas,
sola, contigo, me despedí.

te despedí sola, entre todo ese blanco,
con ese miedo y dolor,
y ese sonido agobiante
que no me deja dormir.

tu no tenias pensamiento,
yo no tenia valor,
te quise sin conocerte,
te quise sin que fueras aun.

algún día regresaras a mi,
un arco iris de luz,
algún día dejare de escuchar
el vació de algo que cae
en metal, vibración vacía.

yo te anhelo,
por ser algo nuestro,
por que pudiste ser,
por que yo te quiero.

a year ago
today
oh do you even remember?
it was a sunday.
the night before
we began our tradition
of acting before saying
of doing, without thinking.
you held me,
we blamed it
on the elixir of the night;
you took my hand,
i closed my eyes.
it was cold and pretty,
dunes and stars
and tired faces...
it was a heartbeat,
a thumb caressing my palm,
it was the first of many hours,
it was a beginning
in all its glory....

Como te agrego a esta historia?
a este relato de lo que es mi vida,
este cuento imaginario
de lo que quisiera que fuera?
te tejo de entrada a salida
en punto derecho o al revés
en forma de corazoncillos,
y para que?
en la noche los deshago
nudo por nudo
como si eso quitara
el mas grande en mi garganta
y me quedo sin nada mas
que un hilo enredado…
te pego como papel,
con unas gotas de resistol
y mucha paciencia,
a la superficie de mi alma,
y llegan las lagrimas
a mojarte y deshacerte
en la madrugada…
te amarro a mi ser,
con besos y caricias,
y en la noche
te libero de esas cadenas,
y espero inocente
a que te mantengas conmigo
aun sin ellas…
despierto en el frió
de la oscuridad,
y un poco sorprendida
volteo a no encontrarte
junto a mi…
y entonces,
solo fue un sueño?

I was born in a cold land,

The leaves bright orange like the sun

And a dusting of icy dew on wilted grass;

I was born in sanitary white and surgical blues,

Incubated, saved, isolated;

Mamá cried:

In the motherland,

mi Apá would’ve had to choose.

I was born into exile.

I was born to immigrants,

Brown like the dirt

Mis abuelos grow caña in,

Like the leaves, glorious colors past;

I was born foreign.

I was born in Español,

Accented with indigenous words,

Bastardized like our foods and dance;

I was born and placed

At the care of a deer’s eye,

Tied red around my wrist,

A wooden cross,

A brown ******,

A blue-eyed Niño Dios.

I lived in dust for 2 years.

I ran free, in fields of milpa,

In fields of caña,

In zocalos with

Colorful waving paper flags

And statues of generals.

I played with cousins,

Sharing bolis and nieve,

The hot clay burning our feet,

Racing to cool down at the spring.

And then I was brought back for school:

Los gringos van a estudiar,

They whispered, a bit mocking, about me,

4 years old, a girl,

In a place where girls were good for marriage,

University for the rich, ****** folks

Of faraway cities.

I came back to the cold land in spring.

A small barrio of tall broken down buildings,

Tiny apartments that became havens

At the sound of guns at night.

There was no more running around freely,

No more campos, no more town squares.

School was foreign,

There was English to learn,

A struggle to lose the accent,

To make the thick words

Comfortable in my tongue.

aveces te siento mas cerca cuando simplemente deslizo mis dedos sobre tu piel.
por lo menos, te siento mas humano, como si te pudiera alcanzar
el rinconcito de ti que conoce de la ternura.
aveces me gustas tosco, feroz, hambriento, porque así comprendo que me necesitas,
aunque sea solo en ese momento que nos conocemos de esa forma,
de esa manera ansiosa y desesperada.
aveces me conformo con solo besar ese lunar, y acomodarme en tus brazos,
piel con piel, y huesos enredados, descansando un poco,
peleando los dos perezosamente el sueño.
(interesante que sin falla después de llorar me de sueño, y después de quererte también)
aveces me calma simplemente estar así, tranquilos y respirando igual,
tus dedos trazando figuras en mi cintura,
sin decir una palabra y dejando escapar aquel o otro suspiro.
aveces estoy bien, imaginando que me quieres.

Touch me.
your body
of skin and bones,
your lips of nerves,
your eyes
of receptors,
cones and rods.
Touch me.
your fingers
of loneliness,
your tongue
of electric desire.
Touch me.
Touch me,
my heart of knotted veins,
my arms of weak resolve.
Touch me,
my trembling knees,
my navel of soft whispers
and my toes of quiet pain.
Touch me,
baby,
touch me.

eres lo mas bellamente triste que me ha pasado
you are the most beautifully sad thing that has happened to me
私へ、あなたが美しく悲しいです

Cuando te acuerdas de mi,
¿en que color piensas?
de ti, me acuerdo
del verde,
así tu risa natural
y refrescante
y de la fortuna
de un trébol
que cada hoja trae
esperanza, fe, suerte y
amor…
y me acuerdo del azul,
la creatividad de la noche,
la eternidad del cielo,
lo profundo
de tu voz…
me acuerdo del coraje rojo,
de la atracción
de tus ojos a los míos,
de los deseos susurrados
y un beso…
y me acuerdo de un amarillo feliz,
el sol en tu piel,
alegres recuerdos,
y una canción…

han pasado
3 meses
3 semanas
2 dias
y 5 horas;
han pasado
4 manos,
2 bocas,
400 y 12 huesos.
Han pasado,
y nada de eso
se ha quedado
en mi,
como los
6 meses,
1 semana,
un dia,
y 12 horas;
como tus
10 dedos,
2 ojos,
30 y 2 dientes,
y tus
2 botas.
han pasado,
y yo sigo
contando,
al reves,
y sin querer,
cuento aun contigo.

We embrace
And it's like I'm holding
The entire Universe in my arms,
Stars within stars,
And I look up
Into your eyes,
Black holes,
That pull me in
Into the nothingness of your peace,
Everything and nothing
Existing together separately.

At some point in the history of the Universe
we began this ascent to humankind;
ironically, this step has led to the descent of the Universe,
as humanness becomes synonymous to destruction,
pollution of our waters and mountains,
our atmosphere and beyond.
Every meter of our existence
has been marked by extinctions,
first, of our brethren, and next of our resources.
The large disparity between
what we think makes us human,
and what we as humans do
hardly seems appropriate in retrospect.
For example,
the end of the most iconic decade of the 20th century:
"one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind"
and yet, less than half a century later,
the gap size between one human and the other,
between my humanness and their humanness
is still extremely large;
we put a man on the moon,
but we have yet to put humanity
in the corporate heads' souls,
in the fascist dictatorships' hearts,
in the bigoted religious zealots,
the cynical, cold atheists
and the downtrodden, fallen generation.

they have passed:
3 months
3 weeks
2 days
and 5 hours;
they have passed
4 hands,
2 mouths,
400 and 12 bones.
they have passed
and none of those
have stayed in me,
like those
6 months
1 week
1 day
and 12 hours;
like your
10 fingers,
2 eyes,
30 and 2 teeth,
and your
2 boots.
they have passed,
and i continue
counting,
backwards,
and without wanting to,
I still count on you.

what is making love?
you kissed me,
and you loved my body,
not much different than before...
nothing had really changed,
but then,
why did my heart feel heavy?
even as i shook from the pleasure,
as i clutched for a little restraint,
my grasp weakened:
all i wanted,
was to curl up and cry.
it wasn't love.
i know you need me then.
i know you want me then.
but i need a little more than that:
i am selfish, perhaps.
you kissed the tears away,
not missing a beat....
but i love you,
and it hurts,
to be in your arms,
to be held and to be touched,
without being loved the same way.

Cuando respiras y mi cabeza recostada
Sube y baja y escucho el aire escapar tus pulmones,
Que son míos también,
Me tiembla el corazón,
Que es tuyo también,
De ese sentimiento de saberte mío,
De saberme tuya y de sabernos juntos, siempre.

Cuando sin pensarlo acostados
Cabe la silueta de mi rostro,
Las curvas de mi frente y mi nariz, mis labios,
Contra la curva de tu cuello,
Para qué caiga mi boca justo ahí,
Donde te gustan más los besos, y te hago suspirar,
Me sonrió al pensar que te se cuidar.

Only you
Make me want to stay home with you,
Curl up to read and write,
Reminding me to breathe and smile.
Simply you.

me haria un vestido
con una falda con los pétalos
de las rosas que me regalaste
sin razón,
una corona de las ideas
que compartimos,
y un collar que de dije
lleve tu corazón…
pintaría un mar
con los besos que me diste,
una nube de suspiros,
y un cielo con las huellas de tus dedos.

do you ever break, dear?
It seems that i am always the one
speaking, crying, complaining,
jabbering away
with pointless words,
thoughts pouring out of my lips
in pools of meaninglessness;
do you ever break?
do you ever sit back and wonder,
what is going on?
why is this my life,
my choices,
why am I happy,
or not happy,
why have I chosen you?
do you ever break, dear,
and wonder,
if you could open up completely
to me?
enough to cry,
or whisper your deepest fears,
fall in love with me,
or even just so I can know you?
Will you break,
like I’ve broken,
into a million pieces
so that each can be carried
inside each other’s pockets?
Will you ever break,
so that I can love you,
honestly,
completely,
and only,
you?

El es….

no lo se, tal vez es el aroma de aquel café con vainilla ese día blanco; ese instante que dio vueltas en mi cabeza y el ni en cuenta….tal vez es el sabor a tequila y el latido de su corazón y el piso frió…tal vez es sabor a menta, o una canción punk…o tal vez es el dolor que me gusta mas, o el placer que duele tanto….tal vez es el amor de mi vida, o otra historia que contar….tal vez es su altura, la forma que se sienta, su cuerpo largo y yo tan pequeña…tal vez es sus ojos, sus pestañas, su nariz…tal vez es su dolor, y el mio, tal vez es su debilidad, y la mía…tal vez es una cerveza y un cigarrillo nervioso, o un buen whisky para relajar…. quizás sea simplemente ese ultimo beso, pasión, calor…..tal vez es el sueño que ya no me llega, las horas sin dormir…tal vez sea cada lagrima que callo, tal vez.

Tal vez, el es simplemente un anhelo mas.

Si me hubiera imaginado que dolería tanto estar así,
me hubiera quedado en el principio…
tan inocente que era todo entonces,
tan lleno de posibilidad
y curiosidad
ese tiempo,
la tentación de pensar que tal vez,
tal vez si te sintieras igual…
esa esperanza de que tal vez,
esas mariposas que sentía
habían escapado de ti…
tan bonito fue ese momento,
lleno de nervios
y el pensamiento retumbando
fuerte:
“sera? sera que si? creo que si…
pero que importa,
aquí hay calor,
aquí hay un corazón
que late, cada vez mas rápido…”
Extraño la anticipación,
extraño el comienzo,
sentimientos puros y honestos
hasta el punto del dolor…

te necesito igual que la luna al sol,
asi yo, luna,
viviendo de tu luz,
y tu, sol,
brillando por ti mismo,
sin necesidad de mi.

Escóndete
Correme
igual sabes que nos volveremos
a encontrar,
a chocar,
a hallar.
Vete, déjame,
Yo se que no me quieres;
Pero búscame
Engañame
Igual y te voy a creer…

All my life
(These past 2 decades of fast paced growth)
I searched for this one love,
The one the books were written about,
The songs, the movies, the poems.
And I thought how I would know.
Sometimes, I do know.
I know, for example,
When your voice is groggy
And I can hear the words stick to each other sleepily,
When I call you at half past noon on a Sunday,
And I have woken you;
I know then that I love you.
Or,
When we speak for a few hours before bed,
And I hear the swish of a toothbrush so casually over the receiver,
And I imagine you, your left hand on the edge of the sink, leaning,
And the phone between your right shoulder and ear
As you brush and listen, making faces at the mirror.
That's how I know that I love you:
That it's the little, tiny moments that you give me carelessly,
That it's the seconds that you are unguarded,
That I hold precious.
That is your essence.
I steal a few glances now and then,
As you hold me and watch that kids' movie,
And I know then,
When I find the silhouette of your lips
Outlined against the movie screen
To be beautiful,
That I love in a way I hadn't before.
I know that only I love you.
I know that it is make believe for you,
I know because you do not live for my stolen moments,
(You do not, for example, know that when I am angry,
My lips shrink into a stern little pout;
Nor that when I am happy
I bounce on the ***** of my feet,
Like a child).
You do not find endearing
The trembling of my voice,
Or the honesty of my necessity for you.
I know.
I know I found the reason for my words,
Sleepless nights,  tearful epiphanies and rash decisions;
I found why those songs and those books and those movies
Do not play out in real life,
But seem rather like other universes
of pretty people with too much free time.
I've discovered how I know I love you
With the passion of 2 decades of search:
Because I have learned to love the small,
Human,  imperfect things about you,
Like the way you yawn into the phone,
Or forget names.
That's the epistemology of this feeling
That otherwise I can't explain.

Esperaba encontrar en ti
Tantas cosas;
Esperaba encontrar al fin
Con quien compartir
Besos y caricias,
Tristezas de media noche,
Horas de hacer nada.
Esperaba intercambiar
Versos de los maestros,
Benedetti, Neruda, Sabines,
Pasar noches escuchándote
Recitar los nombres de las estrellas,
De las ciudades
Visitadas solo en viajes repentinos
Del corazón.
Esperaba contar contigo,
Contar regresivamente un nuevo año,
Contar mitos y cuentos,
Contar hasta mil los sueños
Que crearíamos juntos.
Esperaba leer mil libros,
Repitiendote en voz alta
Alguna frase curiosa,
Tal vez una que comparara
A la mujer a clavel
O el amor a la lluvia,
Y dirías
"como comprendes?
la mujer no se marchita,
la lluvia no moja,
como las ganas de dar un beso".
Y olvidaríamos
La absurda insistencia
De componer palabras
Para explicar
Algo que no tiene explicación.
Esperaba despertar
A medio día
Un sábado contigo,
Probar café en tus labios,
Y acordarnos de la noche anterior,
Sonriendo y sonrojando.

Esperaba no tener que esperar mas.

Extraño las peleas
en tu cama,
revolcándonos
entre cabeceras,
besos,
y cosquillas;
tu voz,
entre medio de una risa,
preguntando,
sin aliento,
“no me quieres?”
y yo
completamente
perdida…
extraño estar enredada
entre tus mas
hondos suspiros,
en tus brazos
firmes, seguros…
extraño temblar,
el miedo,
y tus dulces labios…
extraño ser,
irreparablemente,
la mujer que deseas,
a la que susurras
tus sueños,
tu futuro y lo que eres…
amor,
extraño como a nada
las pestañas que contaba,
y despertarte
de tu reposo ligero
en mis brazos,
con mariposas
en forma de besos,
y alinear las caderas
como algún baile
de infinita gracia
y destreza,
como algo innato,
universal,
natural…
y débil, aun que sea
este corazón,
con todas sus fuerzas,
en cada latido
te extraña como nadie.

*****.

Tu voz llena de una suplica
Y ella abrazando sus rodillas
Agachaba su cabeza.

*****. Mírame.

Pensaba en que jamás había escuchado
Tu voz con ese tono
Tierno, un poco adolorido, desesperado.

Por lo menos dime algo.

Que podría decir,
Se preguntaba,
Si de todos modos
Estaba ya decidido.

La tomas de la mano,
Y solo notas que esconde su cara
Pero no ves el nudo en su garganta,
Las lagrimas a punto de brotar,
El temblor que la sacudía por dentro.

Sabes que así es mejor.

Menea la cabeza que si.
Pero siente tu mano
Tibia
Enlazada entre sus dedos,
Y piensa que no se resignara
A no tenerla otra vez así.

La tienes abrazada,
Y contemplas un rato
Las nubes
Que cubren las estrellas.

Pasa un señor de edad y se sonríe
Al mirarlos así,
Parecía una señorita apenada
De la mano
De su novio enamorado
Contando luceritos.

Algo la despierta,
Desenredandose,
Reclama su mano
Y despeja su mente.

No entiendo.

Su voz, aun un poco ronca,
Te sorprende por decidida.
Tu mano queda destendida
En forma de sus dedos
Y al mirarla te quedas helado,
Tal vez un poco rechazado.
La enrollas mientras habla,
Y te abrazas a ti mismo
Y ella cruza sus manos,
Mirando al suelo.

Como era posible
Que deshacías su amor
de la misma manera
Que la enamoraste,
Tomándola de la mano,
Y en tus brazos?

No.

Decidiste hacerla sufrir,
De una vez entonces.
No hay adiós fácil,
No hay adiós apiadado,
Si uno no quiere decirlo.

Que crueldad,
Piensa con coraje.
Y tu, tal vez pensando
Que siempre te pudo sorprender.

Oh, I wish I was free…
free of this “love”
that eats at my heart,
that tortures my mind
with what could-have-beens
and should-have-dones;
Oh, I really do wish I was free,
of this emptiness
that ties me up at night,
that curls me up
into a lonely ball
of dry sobs….
I wish I was really free,
free of you,
so every time it truly
would be a choice to have you…
but here I am a slave,
of your make-believe words,
of your pretend touch,
your lying kisses.
And I really wished I was free.

era de esas personas que se prenden,
estallan en llamas naranjas y azuleadas,
y todo lo que tocaba se incendiaba igual….
era de esas personas que iluminaban,
encendían los pensamientos.
el era asi,
una vida de colores,
una sonrisa traviesa,
eso fue lo que era.
era la luz que revoloteaba en su cabello,
la lumbre que calentaba,
y una combinación perfecta
de pasión y calidez.
pero el fuego se apaga de repente,
quedan cenizas tibias,
vuelan por el viento,
dispersas…
si el fue fuego, ahora entiendo:
yo fui el aire, su oxigeno,
que sin mi no se encendía..
pero el oxigeno con presión
se convierte en viento,
con un poco mas de energía mueve,
y sin querer al abrazar,
sofoca su calor.
el era fuego,
y yo aire;
y de la pasión
solo cenizas
y un viento frió
permanece aquí.

i hate how you make me feel
you bring me up so high
so i can breathe the stars
we count at night
and then
it gets so cold
when you’re not around
when not even a whisper
a call
a word
nothing
and then, i can feel you
slipping away,
i hate you because i can see
i can see the end already,
and isn’t it so sad?
because there’s the time before you,
the time with you,
but the time after you,
is that really going to exist at all?
i hate you
because i should have known better.
i hate you because i did,
and you spoke
the key words
and you opened all the doors
and i was left unguarded.
i hate you because
somehow you knew me better than myself,
because you figured out
the cleanest way to my soul
before i could.
i hate you because you will take
parts of me that i
could never get back.
i hate you because
i don’t want to love you.

i remember that day
i took your hand,
hoping to find a little bit of warmth:
your fingers did not curl around mine;
i froze.
"You don't want to?"
i asked, my voice rising a little,
in time with my temper.
yours matched mine.
"what? i didn't say anything."
my fingers curled around your unmoving hand.
i wanted to cry.
we continued to walk,
my eyes staring at the concrete.
i wanted so much to be cared for.
and here i was instead,
holding on to unhappiness.
it was a quiet walk home,
it was cold.
i took my hand into my pocket,
and you said nothing.
i always needed you more,
more than you did me.

y depues de todo,
apesar de todo,
aqui sigo,
igual,
no,
parecida,
a la que te esperaba
noche tras noche….
despues de todo,
seguir igual.

no sabia que lo que yo sentia
tuviera nombre...
le llamaba amor,
le llamaba tentacion,
le llamaba frustracion,
le llamaba decepcion,
le llamaba inspiracion.
y no, no llegaba
ninguna palabra
ni a la mitad.
y tu lo dijiste:
incondicional
esa palabra que lo explica todo:
el porque de mis desvelos,
el sentimiento de enojo
cuando mis ojos
captaban los tuyos mirando a otros,
y aun así pensar que eran hermosos,
la razón por la cual
mi orgullo no existe contigo,
lo que excusa
que yo te bese donde quieras:
en el cuello cuando estamos solos,
en la mejilla cuando hay que pretender
simplemente amistad.
incondicional:
que me rompas el corazón
de mil maneras,
a tu forma, cuando quieras;
y que vuelva otra vez,
a perdonarte mil veces
como a ti te gusta,
pidiéndote que me quieras
un poquito mas,
un poquito mas así....
incondicional:
que sepa siempre
cuando se trata de amar,
cuando de los negocios,
y cuando de solo idear....
que cambie mi voz,
que te complazca
una noche
con mis gemidos sin aliento,
con mi llanto de placer,
y al otro día
que te informe ,
bien seria y profesional,
los detalles de aquel plan....
incondicional
saber que ahi voy a estar,
que voy a ser lo que necesites,
cuando lo necesites.
incondicional
*incondicional

"If you are not growing
then you are dying."
For a second I stood stagnant,
I was dying, with eyes wide open.
There were the moments I felt alive,
when I was in your arms,
and your lips were whispering truths
along mine,
truths neither of us understood- yet.
When we were out of breath,
our hearts caught somewhere
in our throats,
and our bones were in love with each other,
but our brains could not admit it- yet.
There were those moments,
and then I was dying.

And he came,
with whispers and soft fingers,
he sat across from me
and bought me a sugary carrot cake,
and I sipped on hot chocolate
and I kicked his feet with mine,
like old times,
like-
like my best friend.
I met his place for the first time,
the first one of us to have left,
to be making it on their own-
and my eyes were wide with novelty.
Again,
I sat across from him,
an unopened wine bottle between us,
with my secrets about you
taking up space at the table,
with his words about your lies,
and my fears exposed on my skin.
I was almost in tears.
And he took a breath
and spoke,
about some night with friends,
and how it turned into an idea,
that maybe we could learn together.
He looked me in the eyes,
eyes I had known as comfort,
and said,
"I don't love you like this now,"
and he took my hand,
"but I can learn to love you,
I can open that door for you,
like he doesn't want to,
like he won't ever do for you."
There were all sorts of hurt
floating in the air around us:
it was intoxicating.
He kissed me-
this, this boy, my best friend,
he placed his hand on my lap,
and he kissed me;
shyly at first,
and then,
and then I wasn't there anymore.
I was pretending,
that I wasn't pretending it was you.
I came back to covers,
the first time I had been like this
on a bed,
and I thought,
why couldn't this be you?
And I felt *****,
like if his hands had smeared my body
with glue
and all the lint, dust and dirt
were sticking to my skin
like leeches,
slimy, gooey, gross.
I was there,
and I was hiding.
Ashamed.
He looked like he would be smoking,
if that were his thing,
and it was quiet.
I wanted to throw up.
He wanted to go to work.
I wanted a hug,
he'd had what he wanted.
He didn't even take me home.
At home,
I sank into the bathroom floor.
And I cried.
Because it wasn't you,
and I had failed;
because I knew
what friendship that was,
was now dead;
Because I wanted to die,
than face you
with my body tainted;
I cried
because that's how I learned
I loved you.
And I cried again,
when you cried,
and I have cried again,
when you aren't there,
and I feel the shame,
shame, shame, shame,
flowing through my veins,
and the bile rises up,
and I want to forget.
He took my body,
to make the sadness feel less,
for me, for him,
to make the hurt smell like desire
instead of pain,
and that did not work:
I loved you,
and he could not love me,
I loved you,
empty spaces and question marks;
and it made me sad,
perhaps as sad as him.

I promise the usual things:
to love you and respect you,
to hold you and want you,
to make you smile
and laugh, and dream.

But I also promise:
to hold your hand
when you are trying
to get something done,
just because.
to kiss you
in the middle of a sentence,
and make you cry with me
when my feelings overwhelm you.

I promise to look at the sky,
and name the stars for you,
I promise to learn you,
I promise to teach you,
share a million little useless facts,
about unimportant things.
I promise to show you,
the simple things that get me going,
like the liveliness in your eyes,
and I promise to remember
your aspirations
and what side of the bed you prefer.

I promise not to get mad
when you forget my birthday,
(I know, you’re not that good at that…
it’s kind of cute),
and I promise to interrupt you
with something I just remembered
from two weeks ago.
I promise to quote random books
and random people,
and maybe they won’t be that random,
if a particular phrase reminds me of you,
of me, of us.

I promise to sing,
maybe just once, to you,
and every day to the scars of our love
(when the time comes).
I promise to give you my all,
and learn how to cook,
and I promise to take a break,
every now and then,
from everything
so we can do silly things.
I promise you the usual things,
to love you and to hold you,
to be as certain of this,
as I am of evolution,
as sure as the roundness of Earth,
as steady as the rhythm of your breath
that night I felt you sleep underneath me.
I promise you myself,
I promise I will be happy for you,
and with you,
and because of you.

And I promise I will finish this someday.

"we"
were born on a night like this,
cold, freezing, icy,
on a night like this,
last year.
i always remember the strangest things.
like,
remember how your phone rang?
you upgraded that phone,
it rings differently now.
and
i remember the coffee grounds
in your cup
and how we hid
quietly in the dark room
as my name was being called...
i remember so much,
how "we" came to be...
how you smiled
as you led me away from the stage...
and how i felt as you carried me,
and how it felt to meet your lips,
for the very first time....
i remember how happy i felt,
so happy i could cry.
i remember how i measured my foot against yours
afterwards, when we had joined everyone again.
i remember the hint of *****
as i said goodbye,
how it felt almost like a toast to us.
i remember how good it felt to start the year like that.

quisiera escaparme contigo,
vivir un poquito una parte de ti:
la noche, y su madrugada.

tengo miedo.
se que si me pides que te espere,
se que lo voy hacer.
se que si me lo pides,
perderé un millón de minutos,
miles de horas y días,
se que perderé años,
esperando tu regreso.
se que si me lo pides,
gastare mi tinta en escribirte,
que dormiré poco pensándote
que rezare a ese Dios
en el que antes  no creía,
buscando un poquito de fe
y una señal
que no espero en vano.
tengo miedo.
se que te seré fiel,
aunque no nos ate nada,
y se entonces
que perderé mil oportunidades
de encontrar el amor,
de encontrar la paz del alma,
lejos de ti.
tengo miedo,
si te vas
y me pides
que te espere,
que te guarde
un rinconcito de mi corazón.
tengo miedo,
porque te esperare
incondicional,
y tal vez no regresaras
y entonces,
que voy hacer?

Tú eres el poema
Que llevo en las venas,
Que se desborda
Como la tinta
Que derrama
Manchas
Esporádicas en mi papel.
Que se desliza
Sobre mi piel,
Que queda
Suspendido
En mi garganta,
Que solo aparece
A media noche.

her skin was pale,
i guess that's what they mean about french girls;
her lips were red
as they sipped
that fruity little drink
at a second-rate club,
and her
green, pleated skirt
swished
to the rhythm of some song.
i sat at the bar,
looking at my own hands,
brown like caramel,
and
realized for a moment,
that i could fall in love
with the milky skin
of her calves.
i guess that's what they mean about french girls.
she spoke in english,
with an intoxicating accent
that became more slurred
the more she tried to quench her thirst.
she smiled at me.  
her brown curls bounced on her shoulders,
and she danced
with the Arabic boy
that had been staring at her since
that first day we left the country
for the weekend.
for that moment,
i questioned my self,
and
i guess that's what they mean about french girls.