Dulce media noche (or, "First Birthday Poem Ever")

I want to be inside you
when the clock strikes
12 midnight, new day.
New Year.
New.
EXPERIENCE
your birth with you
you slide down that water
slide, flow.
There she flows!
Like showers
on flowers.
Not flowers
still wetness.
Petals? Lips?
I still put
nose up in it.

When the clock strikes
twelve, I want to make
you pulsate
like Big Ben.
Pulse on the roof of your mouth
choking on your tongue.
We get gutta’
You get guttural
I take it personal
and hold you
accountable let’s
Get personal here.
I hold you account.
Pardon my accent
I meant en cuenta
No es en cuenta si no
cuentas.

Cuenta hasta 12
1…2..3 breath
4...5…6 and push through
7…8...9 it’s like being in a dark closet
counting down Bloody Mary.
SCARY
but you gotta look
a TrIGGer
in the face.
Let’s face it
it’s like a quake
rolls up on you
stomach even turns.
Get under a table
One hand on some fixtures
It’s for your safety this time.
With your other hand
cover your head
not your eyes
need them for glaring
don’t turn away
hand over your head!
You’ve got this shit covered.
“Do you want to stop
talking about it?”
---Nope, can’t must
not waste energy.
It doesn’t matter
Pardon my accent
It doesn’t mother
nothing nurturing about
turning the other cheek
on the truth
turning on your heel
I will dig my heels
Like spokes
Digo, spikes.
One
spoke,
hable,
hablar
hablamos
hablaremos
at a time.
new EXPERIENCE.


Won’t sacrifice
Line for the rhyme
Nor the rhyme
for the reason.
For no reason?
No matter
Pardon my accent.
I meant madre.
Madre que te partió
Bendita sea.
Bendita tu eres
Entre todas
Tu vientre
en tu vientre
A las doce
A las DOCE…doce
Dolce
Sweet
Dulce
Media
Noche.

La noche esta a medias
Ven, ay que llenarla
Tengo muchas ideas.
Mid-night, fill you up
with the sound of kisses
poppin off your ear
up to thirty kisses
one for every year.
Fill Mid-night up with whispered TEQUIEROS,
with feelings so fast they pull you out your dream
Fly out your mouth like a shooting star
And I catch them,
like a shooting star,
out the corner of my eye.
Really, the corner of my ear.
Feeling cornered when exposed to truths
those exposed truths
your lips reveal
like an open window
letting me see inside.
Your words…Welcome me
like a mat, they sustain me
in the still darkness of the night
one we try to fill
but really fills us
Dolce
Sweet
Dulce
Noche.