I don't want to be in your bed sheets.
And I don't want you tangled up in mine,
I made my bed this morning.
I don't want you in my bed sheets,
Tangled up in them
Entwined
As if they were the vines of lust,
Binding you to the mirage of Us
The vines of love are coated with dust,
It's dangerous.
It's slippery.
Wet like the ocean as soon as you dip in me.
They say the ocean is deep and within it lie secrets...
Kiss me farewell and dive to the bottom of the seven seas just to keep it.
I don't want to go swimming in my bed sheets.
Then they'd be drenched from the high tides of expired desire
I don't want to wring out the deception that you perspire
I don't want to make my bed again.
My laundry is clean.

the way my mind
interprets you makes
me want to, just for
the way you tell your
stories, or crack jokes.

you keep creeping into
the synapses firing like
an execution squadron
all around my brain, and
i can't shake these musings.

(a) maybe i want to prove
something to myself,
(if you find out what, let
me know) or (b) myself
to something, or not.

or maybe (c)
i'm just sad and alone,
and maybe i wish you'(d)
read this, and mayb(e) i
know you will.

trick question, option (f),
maybe i just want to know
what it would be like to
wake you from existence
with the slap to the face
or bucket of glacial water
my lips have always
been.

Never the woman,
always the other woman.
She-poets have sung of it since
they first gave words
to the wet knot of their hearts.

The consolation prize, the late-comer
who must be the one to wash his
***** hands. Not a goddess but
the amazon who presses on his
body’s weakest points. The villainess.

The other woman has no power.
He doesn’t need to know her name,
her fears, which books made her cry as
a girl. He already has his golden idol,
but he wants a clay vessel on the side.

He doles her out careful smiles under
pinkblue bar-lights or in smoky kitchens.
He tells her yes you’re beautiful
but I’ve got a better one at home still
can I see the shape you make in my bed?

And she is hopeful and lost
but finds his arm and lets herself be led.
Never the woman, but a girl who
plays games in the mud, dirties her dress,
blacks out her face, her soiled lips.

And women speak of the other woman
like she is a crow above their doors.
Watching them make their love
through greedy eyes while
nursing her barbed and tangled heart.

"How long has it been since you've talked to him?"
I don't tell them of the
letter you sent
entirely blacked out
except for the phrases
"Dear, Emily"
"Love, Zachary"

His home is an orphanage
in downtown Belize.
Triple-decker bunk beds
topped with ***** stained mattresses
fill each room.
An abandoned 10 year old
lies paralyzed on the floor;
"Don't touch him. Nobody ever touches him."
A small child covered in sores
sleeps in a puddle of his own *****.

I offer a container of pink Play-dough to a boy
who proceeds to sculpt me
changing the pink to brown
with his ***** hands.
When he is done,
it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
"What is your name?"
"I'm Allen"
He tells me about his dreams of leaving Belize
and becoming a U.S. soldier.
He tells me of how his mother,
a **** addict,
dropped him off at the doorstep when he was 8 years old
and how he remembers
the look of fear and disappointment in her eyes
every time she looked at him
and saw his father.
His favorite color is blue.
Together, we make bracelets with colorful beads,
and as I stand to leave
he hands me a pinkish-brown heart
warm and sweaty
from his ***** hands.
And in return
I hand Allen,
and every child like him,
my own heart
red and ******,
dedicated and passionate,
foolishly and hopefully attempting
to change the world.

August 22, 2003

Contractions
retractions
regrets
every twenty seconds apart
now counting ten
write them down
lets retrace these steps again
he is bustin' to get out
and needs more room to stretch
I know you are in pain
just take a deep breath
we already made it this far
we need to finish this race
because you are a cradle of life
and a vessel that holds my own
it was only nine months ago
that we decided to conceive
flesh and blood
that binds you and me
and ties us like a rope
in a sweet afternoon
on a nest without a tree
we ceased to be two
and went on to be three.
Now that we finally made it here
just breathe easy my dear
the worst is almost done
and the best is yet to come
I'll watch you like an angel
while God delivers our son
while my princess tries to sleep
and my little devil is to be born.
"is he crowning yet?"
She would ask
time and time again
I try not to be terrified
at the sight of what's taking place
liquids steps
careful measures
not enough space
push until you brake
as you turn into a grape
still beautiful as the day we met
when I came to your table
and waited for something you would say
so I could conjugate your name
in adjectives and verbs
words of love
sonnets of grace
when our puzzle fell into place
and it spelled:
I
will
forever
love
you
miss
Rivera.
From the end to beginning
from the algae to the fishes
like your kisses
like the long waits
like the eternal months
whether it rained or snowed
like our futile fights
like our happy cries
I heard you through the grapevine
I always heard you both
you have made me proud
and I hope the same I have done
my queen without a crown
here's your present
here's your child
welcome to the world
our baby boy Josh.

You could never hold me prisoner;
My mind would set me free.
You could contain me between
Cold stone walls
Until my body is deprived of life,
All I will ask is that you grant me
One final wish.
One pad of paper
One pen
And  I will write until I perish.
You can take everything from me;
My soul remains.