Amor

Amor

Roma

         Mora

                 Ramo

te extiendo un ramo

de olivo

para tu piel

para lubricar nuestras

relaciones que parecen

haberse secado

te extiendo un poco de alivio

ablandándome a tus modos-

rodilla, tobillo

dedo gordo hinchados

inflamados dilo como digas

pero hay fuego. Hay fuego dentro

de mi.

Es mentira que el ardor

todo desmorona

mis nervios son columnas

Roma

rondando dándole muchas

vueltas a esto

debo caerle como

zopilote consumir de tu cuerpo

atracarme de ti

quedar pesada, inflamada

contigo. Pero siento miedo

y me vomito

ayi esta el rechazo

te quedas mirando mi embarro

y me echo a volar.

Amor del bueno

amor del Viejo

como Roma

puro como la blancura

de las estatuas que cubren la ciudad

grandezco e histórico.

así me la imagino.

Amor

tu eres  del bueno

me haces suspirar

palpitar purpura

como la mora

que es mi corazón

convirtiéndose

un

caleidoscopio

de emociones

me llevas contigo

a las orillas

y de repente me jalas

pal centro.

Soy una iris midiendo

la luz ala que me expongo

abrí los ojos, ya veo.

Te veo

Amor

Amor del bueno

amor del Viejo

Amor mío.

So so so so so so Special

Hang ups got nothing uplifting to them

always make me crash. Spirit bent

like an accordion my voice all muffled

gets louder in my head

emotions choke me, my throat an old  muffler that got

miles of stories to run. 

I ruminate on a time we had

one moment that gets me all stuck

like my 12 times tables. Xs flying at me

like an ex’s under-the-table-come-ons. 

Come on! Come on!

Let’s move on the present is not talking

about the future nor the past. Come on! Come on!

I need a bump- bump the needle off

my thoughts on-loop. Admire them

like vinyl on the wall of a greasy hipster joint.

Hang-ups. They slow me down

actively, shut down my imagination.

It’s supposed to be a teenage thing but

hey I still get pimples so why do I think

insecurities clear up with degrees.

You’d think I’d know better. My recall

is terrible, only bring to mind the times

I failed…failed myself.

Need to hear from others the times

that I succeeded. Even then I don’t believe

just feel like a generation X-er demanding

my trophy for showing up.

We all want to be something in this world

there is power in numbers but when I say things

like that it’s just skirting the issue

at least I ain’t lying

coming straight as an A-line

My mouth is scared from secrecy

a scab flaps loosely

loosened by my slip ups.

My tiny jerky

my piece of me rotting from the inside

from not pressing my feelings

my heart, my pelvis on to you.

Punishment for not nourishing on your lips

that I forget how perfect they are until I cant

press up on them. Humming bird lips,

vibrate perfectly

causing a backwards reflection

to the first time I skinned those lips.

Our history.

I know I love you

cause I resisted pulling the skin off

my lip. I didn’t yank that crispy skin

with the tips of my index

finger and my thumb.

I resisted the pain

the pleasure of the sting

flooding my body as the blood

sprouts out my lip down my chin

warm trail. Resisted having

my lip swell from the immediate jolt

instant gratification rather be fully satiated

by the feel of your lips.

I let myself heal for you- my history.