with closed eyes we see the world
blanketed by senseless screens
absent of real words
imagery we can’t understand
with closed eyes the world sees us
hidden behind doors
lost from human contact
connections we can’t define
with closed eyes we see the world
painted with desire
immersed in ourselves
love we cannot celebrate
like a hunter in hiding,
you pounce perfectly
as I try to escape
you think you’ve caught me,
but your trap doesn’t dig–
my ankle is free for running
I offer you a portion,
a tiny morsel to munch,
but you are not a master huntsman.
you will only see me
as the prey you trapped too late,
the remainder of the meal left on the table.
she tells the tale
from beginning to end
omitting no details
she includes the exposition
the rising action
and the climax
her wrist sliding into the air
with a blue band
so proud
only her mother’s daughter
could she be
my storyteller extraordinaire
it could be the Spanish-English mix
from the nanny’s mouth as we sat in the zoo,
my thoughts of the last day of summer
slipping from my hands
quicker than the tears
my baby cried to sleep with,
or the anger inside
that someone would pay another
for everything i love the most.
it could be the defriending,
his cold absence of words in my presence,
or her emphatic insistence
that eight months is enough
time with her baby
when a thousand years
would not satiate me.
it could be the story i love
coming to a bittersweet end,
or the small voices
absent from my home
on the one day when
i need them most.
but i will never be quite able
to define what haunts me.
i cannot replicate the complex crest
nor mimic la bandera de España.
i cannot be the arms of your mother
or speak coherently her tongue.
i can only pour in the ingredients,
spin the mixer of all we desire,
and place before you in red and yellow
everything your presence means to me.
i cannot say in words what the cake will tell
in so many sweet remembrances,
so many little tastes that sparkle
like the teardrops in the corners of her eyes.
Isabella
not a tear or a fear
you smile at adventure
we leave you for four days
and the silence of your absence
is brighter in my mind
than the happy photos
of your smiling face
that they send to us
Riona
words escape you
as you blink back dark eyes
and growing-out bangs,
hiding behind my leg,
your babyhood reemerging
yet
when they are gone
you endlessly request
the words that have filled our hearts
(after moments of hesitation)
they magically conjure from your mouth
Mythili
a pile of donated clothes
sit like humped garbage
on the living room floor
i open bags
sift through worn-out knees
and missing-mate shoes
Oh, I didn’t know new dresses were coming in
your six-year-old crone remarks,
lighting a fire beneath my doubts.
the distance between
this loveless lunch
and the long drive you’ll never take
is immeasurable in eyes
hidden behind our family wall.
the rain beats down
as we stand in hushed surprise
rush to the endless line of cars
where we wait wait wait
always an adventure
the stars beat down
on a tent without poles
dirt as thick as cream on skins
fires that won’t start
always an adventure
the sun beats down
on a misnavigating device
streets clogged with crowds
underground cracks of hellish heat
always an adventure
my soul beats down
on two jobs, three kids
bills piling like paper mountains
parents who miss what i have:
always an adventure
you will never say
the words that would pop
right out like a sucker gone sour
from the bitterness of my mouth.
instead you click shut the phone,
slide it into your pocket
of quiet reservations,
and tell him
with all the ease of a southern gentleman,
You’re coming home with us
and before the dawn has crept in,
before you’ve taken the girls to swimming,
even before balloon animals conjure
Spanish vocabulary from their mouths,
you remind me again
why
in so few words
yet so many gallant reactions
you are mine,
i am yours.
just like the balloon animals
you have hidden in your suitcase
to the enthralled delight
of three learning-Spanish girls,
you are a rainbow of surprises
whose colors we cannot wait to discover.
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