She speaks of a past she never lived
During an uncertain present
thinking of a shady, shaky future

Her words are careful and well thought of
For each may be the seed that if succesful will feed her for years to come
She then speaks of water
And how dry her mouth is
She seems thirsty
her thirst is real.

My eyes feel heavy

Simmering and hot

Like the canela I drink to lower my blood sugar



I dream of you leaving

Entering that hotel

And me: motionless, helpless, and waiting



You want to eat the world

And I want to eat with you

You want to fly and feel

I want to fly and feel you: your heartbeat, your breathing, your stories…



I want to love with you

I want to believe your words

I want to hold your lips sacred



May be I am not as open minded as I thought I was

Maybe it’s my internalized sexism

Or maybe I learned to hold on to what I love with all my might and strength

And maybe I just don’t know how to love

But I want to re-learn it ******!



I want to hold you

And warn you that what’s out there ain’t always cute and cuddly

That these men we call our lovers will tell you anything

Make you lose whatever little dignity you have

Whatever little love you got left

To fill you up with their flesh, *****, lust, damage.

I’ve been with these men, these men we have fantasies with, these men that will touch us but won’t feel us, **** us, but won’t kiss us, **** us but won’t hear us. And you dream of these men, and you touch yourself thinking of these men, but these men will never make contact with your deeper self, con tu espiritu, con tu corazon.

Not to say I’m not possessive, overwhelming and impatient.  I just want to hold you under the rain, and let you know it’s ok to be wet, but not soaking the whole day (pretending to be dry.)

Good  Night

All to say, our mother’s are right: be careful out there.

Why do I cry about love when children are dying of hunger?

Why do I feel empty about you, when millions live on a dollar?

Why do I cry about love when mothers are burying their children?



I want to cry for the right reasons

I want to cry for injustice

For wirikuta

I want to cry to my mother, my sisters, my grandmothers and beg them for forgiveness

Forgive all my sexist trespassing, all my alliances to abusive men, all my silences

Forgive all the times you cleaned after me and served me

All the awkward situations I put you into for defending me

And my right to be queer



Forgive me mother

Sisters, aunts, grandmothers, godmothers

For allowing you to be undermined in ceremony

For stepping up and not letting you speak

For speaking the words that belonged to you

For not singing soft enough for your ears



Why do I cry over men who don’t love me

And forget about the women who raised me to be the queer that I am?



So I place these tears as an offering of love

Will you please accept them?



Mother earth

Mother universe

Will you please accept my offering?



Why do I cry over love,

          While others have tears no more?

I want to engage in a conversation with you,
Because in our love negotiations
My divinity is not on the table.

No you can’t love me in fragments
I don’t come compartmentalized
Love me whole
Or I will fly.

I want to build a nest
With you, with all your words,
But remember I’m a migrant bird
And I know how to soar away,
You don’t understand my way of love.

I do not sing in cages,
I do not live in fear,
I live, I love, I worship,
I am a living symphony.

Baby, I am free and thriving,
Whole like the bread you got at whole foods
And I know it's complicated:
I am complete and happy without you
Yet I know I could also be whole with you.

quiero escribirte mil gordas,
gordas formadas en líneas,
gordas tiradas en el pasto,
gordas con sus lonjas libres y sin fajas ni pantalones dos tallas menos que asfixien los tejidos de mi piel:
quiero cantarte una gorda canción.

gordas pinches gordas,
gordo el culo gordo el corazón,
gordas las piernas y los muslos,
las caderas.... tentación.

gordas !gordas son las anchas glorietas de la avenida gorda de la ciudad gorda donde todos los gordos y las gordas bailan un son que dice:

tu eres golosa golosa y glotona, tu eres golosa golosa y glotona,
pinche gorda poderosa
tu eres fuerte tu eres diosa
tus curvas son deliciosas
templo lavado con miel
para mi tu eres sagrada
dulce, fuerte y cotizada

gorda tu eres toda gorda,
vos sos toda gorda,
amante gorda,
gorda estudiante,
gorda madre,
gorda hija,
gorda espíritu santa.

¡bienvenidos a gordaztlan!
donde mandamos las gordas
y nuestro proceso de colonización conlleva amar nuestras lonjas,
nuestra panza, nuestras chichotas.

¡donde nada es imperfecto!
ni el lunar bajo del labio,
ni los pelos de la panocha.

¡pasen pasen! por las anchas puertas de nuestro gordo destino,
dicen que la vida es flaca
pero gordo es el camino,
en una mano el elote
en la otra mano el pepino,

con tortillas, chile gordo,
gordolagas con tocino.

¡gorda! ¡gorda!
sube tallas
¡y ven a bailar conmigo!

Nail polish residue is dangerous
So are your memories
But I still bite them away
As if they were my fingernails

Left over mascara
Bad make up
brake up letters
Tacky drag jewelry
I save them all in a big Walmart bag
Just in case, you know,
Just in case...

Almost like a dream
pa' que quiero el cielo if I could touch you
if I could feel your lips

I can write endless poems over your flesh
with the tips of my fingers
bite your knees
taste your legs
as I hear you sigh... suavecito... y con pausas...
our only language is the tremble of your thighs
your sudden fast breathing
a moan.. or two
your *** over my hair

asi... we stay in passionate silence
almost like in a dream
we speak of broken times
except we do not speak
we write

asi holding you tight
as night waves passed by us
I catch your dreams
you slept
your lips spoke to mine
I learned to hear you with my flesh
never had silence being this sublime

“i like writing with you
it feels like a long poem... one that I enjoy...”