“So what poem will you read from your notebook tonight? 

-the puzzle for which the solution will grow in you”
by Sofia Peypoch y Diana Lizette 
Dark powers swell the stomachs     
cured waves restrain el hueco    salud 
 imagen curar curando         
ventana soledad 
her black hair extended towards black pools of watermelon grass 
she asked me donde estaba enterrado 
& I hesitated for a moment and when I was about to respond 
Exacto upbringing my antepasado estos paisajes para que recoger la pluma si no te puedes acordar de la palabra libre         the act of freedom? 
ojo blanco perdiendo vista visual sense i was meant to learn disruption studied fragmentation for a living 
don’t stop writing 
don’t stop writing 
don’t stop writing 
don’t stop writing 
don’t stop writing 
    don’t stop thinking about her     hair 
no sabes cuando todo terminada pero solamente escucho los pasos in the attic blue stands still 
at evergreen the mom talks of the mountains thirty six years of loving someone 
woman hands 
recoge el lugar 
del sueno anoche 
orejas claridad
la piel wall brick red the remains tracking 
footprints dress business face 
another hesitation in the interior mind and body 
cuerpo, quedate aqui tierra suave mojada el sonido de septiembre chaqueta cubre pecho 
futuro de alla creyendo ricon 

hesitant mouth together they problematic reasoning some together once a dar para mochar las hierbas del cuerpo away my return knowing and will not will return swallow breath 
viento que petrifica muchachas sofia y diana cerrando los ojos 
the expansion and first sound       dissipates into cycles 
grapefruit stick on the table 
like the thoughts that have taken refuge in your mind, and mine. 
this was my great grandmothers ring,                         an ancient iron holding my middle finger 
she was a hard woman to budge 
but hot the ring has misshapen 
                                          from hitting the constant line of my unknown times 
                                           we aren't in the same bloodline, but share the shapes  
                                            a woman's light always creates- women through generations. 



Drop by drop on dandelion heat 
an existing rim shadowing the outcome 
separating days into time that slips into minutes 
lunar cycles learning how to turn in both directions, 
and without any pair of eyes noticing 
secret giants holding dear the ability to break
and become whole again
a star confused of its existence 
a rose with thorns blocking the walkway 
what is this world we live in?

answered only by the barbaric yelp 
echoing into an abyss that only the cataract
of a poppy can see. 

my lineage sits on a blank page 
the story falls through all of us 
 it something we are trying to give rid of 
a tangling thread holding the ends of every breath 

mercury blue smeared ink 
papers in water 
a diluted karma seeking space 
for every throat that carries this name 

carries these weightless things 
an iron to clot blood 
my lineage sits on a blank page 

waiting for a hand of stone. 


April “2” 20=I(9)
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