En la noche
pintame un cielo con estrellas como las pecas
en mi cara en verano
para que
yo puedo amarte
otra vez

Oaxaca

I reach up to touch your face
and you are gone
you disappear between
my fingers

tendrils of you
curl around these tree
branches
your heavy breath
comes floating from the cars
into my ears

and yet
i cannot hold you
in this city

I wish I could love you forever
like the ocean as it lays before me
vast in ways
I cannot understand
like the salty flavored
wind whose home I cannot
find
who brings me pieces
of another world

I wish I could stop time in its
tracks
freeze it with my icy
cold dark
breath
slow it gently singing to a sultry sway
have you hold me
in your arms
and whisper
let me hold you
in my arms
and moan

(2nd period)

ICARUs
why did you fly so close to the sun?
could you not
feel its fiery rays?
could you not guess
your fate?

piano (oneword)

i play the piano

with black and white
side by side

with long fingers
arched

i build bridges
for the pilgrims

with elbows high
I shade

with ears open
I hear

we want out poetry to be blunt
do we not?
we like the sound of sharp
edged knives
jutting their way through
the paper gouging our readers' eyes

yet to scar one must push
and to push one must reveal

blades are not easily thrown
with no direction

are we really all so money hungry?
is it such a bad thing
that i consider before i buy lunch?
and you just set the money down?

i felt it within me
when you (we) ripped up that dollar
it's paper i know
but it seems wasteful

one dollar i could handle
but five? ten?

does this mean i'm a monster?

why should we rip money when
others scramble
when others need it

enjoy it yes
not stress i suppose

but is it so wrong
to want to spend less?

my goal is undetermined
i guess that devalues its strength
and i know i should let go slightly

but i do not like being on the other side of the table

the glory it is
to splay my fingers across the keys
to soak it in
to press the pedal
to stomp the sound

we may not be beautiful
but we know how to weave music
around ourselves

to cover our faces with notes

she stumbles she skates
but the melody shines through
and the audience looks on
gazes elsewhere
heads cocked eyes
awed

flinging ourselves into the tips
of our fingers
we dance away our emotions
the hours tick by

i do not notice

teenage angst

bubbling inside of me
oozing out of my pores
i am not in charge of my mouth anymore
can't you see that
i cannot help the cruel words i say

do you think i can control it?
do you think i care?

leaning against the glass window
and looking back
we have torn through this daily newspaper
adding our own flourishing decorations
circling apartments jobs
cars
that we like to think we would buy
if we could

playing house with you
in the red booths
my skirt reaches to the floor

you lean against the table
and i know i will never be able
to come back here
without remembering

years later
what is it that will pop to my mind?
the drawings?
the way two backpacks and coats
look forming a heap on the
red table surface?
the smell? reaching our feet far enough
to touch the other side?
sitting with our backs to the
television? wasting the hours wonderfully?

years later
what will i remember?

years later
what can i keep?