Soy tormenta.
violenta.

Por dentro, solamente.

Si me ves por fuera,
veras, querida,
a cualquier otra.
Como todas,
no hablamos del dolor,
ni de la incapacidad
de levantarse cada mañana.

Y como?
En esta Honduras?
Donde la penumbra se encuentra,
en la sombra de las criticas,
el chisme, clase alta,
y pendeja,

y por eso seguimos
aqui.

Forlorn puppies hunt through the trash in search of food
Incessant honking pounds my eardrums
Putrid hints of smoke and diesel followed by the overwhelming stench of rotting trash scorches my nostrils
Uncontrollable spice followed by sour lassi irritate my tastebuds
Dirt rests in the barrier between my feet and the floor

Bejeweled saris radiate from neon lights
Quiet mantras echo off the walls of the yoga studio
Aroma of fresh baked dosa weaves up and down streets
The wetness of one pomegranate kernel refreshes my mouth
Slippery canary yellow kheer oozes out of my fingertips

I want to leave but also to stay

Someone always left the canoe sled up on the suburban hill
where my parents lived in Lancaster
when my father was still alive
the hot button of bronze rusted park bench water fountains
mustard grime on fujianeze chemical roads,
factory capes bustling out diet coke smoke plumes
over ornate Qing green shrines, the sky congested
congregates in the priest’s hands
passing out grilled flatbread stained with silver coins
on the shivering blades of velvet grass up top to khaki canals
behind the town where empty six-pack rings swim down
to where the homeless sleep
and feed the water with blistered feet—
but underneath a vale of Caspian light
lanterns red as congealed hearts
the smell of fireworks overtakes gas
and for one night it is the country
my parents remember

I hear
Hindi
In the hallway—
Suddenly
My American
Lips
Can taste
The masala
In your kiss;
I smile
And let the memory
Travel
Across the sea
Where it belongs

I did not go back to the dojo
Again
But the love letters
Kept coming.
I ended up only teaching you
And then you
Taught me your Tantra and karma sutra
I could feel love and pleasure with different poses
That we were linked spirituality
We did this every day
And normal making out.
One evening
You were out
I know were confronting
My sensei
And came back with a severe black eye
And a **** on your arm
From a katana
Thank god it was just skin deep
And the hospital was not involved.
“That guy threaten to cute out your heart and cute off my head
I am calling the police and tell them he’s Japanese mafia”
You said
We spent the night
At the police station
I had the letters
As evidence
And where he lives.
A few days later ended up with the dojo to my self and my instructor turned lover was in prison
And being deported back to japan.
In a way my dream came true
Thanks to human stupidity.
The appartment up top
Looked like someone was still
Living there
And the weapons he
Taught me to use
Frightened me to death.

In the morning I made love to you
And taught you everything I knew
Then I left
To be with my secret lover
Sensei Yuan Matsumoto
I made love to him and we ate together
He noticed the Om mani Padme hum
Near my womanhood
And asked if I was tibetan
I said that I was Irish
“Good beautiful, because I am part Chinese and Japanese”
“It was loud mouths idea,” I said coldly as if you were ****.
He looked like an evil, pasty,  glasses less, tattooed
Version of the Dalai Lama
He had only compassion
And gentleness
For me
Soon I spent nights with him
This continued for months
Almost a year
I had to go back to you
So yuan and I wrote **** love letters to eachother.
And we would have the affair
Before class
You were welcomed back
And you got strange when Matsumoto winked at me
You asked what was going on
And that you’ve read every sorted
Letter
You weren’t angry
But curious and worried
I said it was because I thought
You were gay
“Boris, yes I **** your sensei girl friend” yuan said.
Embarrassing
I left and went back to your appartment
And curled in bed and cried
Until no tears came out.
You rushed in
Saying that you will always love me
You climbed in
And we ended up making love though I was shamed.
You kissed my tears and my face and mouth
“Boris you are a wonderful person”
You said that you were only on this planet to love me.

I did something stupid
I look around your ******
Appartment
And found some pictures
Not of rockers or Bruce lee
But that if I strange part of the world
It looked like the slasher but g rated and not gory.
I saw some pactuclar yet beautiful flags
And mountains
Then I found a creepy
Shrine to some middle aged
Bald monk with the strange writing
Around it.
Freaked out I thought you were
Secretally in love
With the Dalai Lama
“Boris! What the **** is going on?!”
I screamed
I was thinking that my parents
Were right
That you were junk
“You bi? No don’t answer
If you go to my classes great
If you don’t fantastic.”
I heard you say “I love you Claudia,”
But in a rage I left
And went to my friends house
In upper Manhattan
I only came back
To teach a class and for my lessons.
But before I secretly checked on you
You were too busy watching that ****** up movie... again.
So I went on my way
During my lessons
I noticed you standing outside
I was going to make you suffer
And sweat
So I thought that my instructor was
Single
I went up and made out out with him in a corner
“Claudia, what the...?” He asked
And he took me to his place up top
Of the training hall
And we were going to have ***
We were kissing
I saw his full body tattoo
And we started to couple
When I heard you yelling my name
The instructor
Said  something in Japanese with rolling r’s
I asked and he said that the ******* ******* was back screaming.
I kissed him and said maybe tomorrow
I got dressed and run to you
You had some gifts
And I had to tell you that my sensei
The owner banned you
And that he was yakuza
You weren’t afraid
And said that you wanted me to get some tattoos
Most of my choiceexcept for one
We went and I got a strange tattoo near my womanhood
That was in the freaky text
You said that you it was tibetan for Om mani Padme hum
The rest I got were stars and flowers
Stars for the arm and the flowers for the chest and throat.
At home you undressed me I
You
While we kissed heavily and passionately
“Claudia I am sorry for that picture freaking you out”
I just kept kissing
We got into bed and
You messaged your mantra
Near my womanhood with you lips and tounge
Then my womanhood.
You then gave me the treats and drape the colourful
Flags around my neck
Then
Continued
As you were pleasuring me I thought of my instructor
But your piercings
We’re a pleasurable reminder
They were right
I was a *****.