Cadáver Exquisito

The day has arrived!

My mind blown from cosmic excitement, I had to stay calm and decide my next move. I always needed a pep talk… even for scrashing my hair. And yet today I needed to be reigned in from explosive demeanor. The capitol has to be taken down. ¡Muerte a los buitres! Cuando pararon de comerse, nos miramos a los ojos. Destellos de chispas azulejos, supieron allí, que ese era el momento. Desaparecimos 5,6,7 y 8, pero ahora somos dos, y con dos se baila un bolero, pero con tres se pasa mejor en una partida de billar donde nadie tiene posibilidades de ganar. La poesía es el lenguaje de la memoria, pero al igual que la memoria, mi poesía no tiene orden. Es solo una herramienta para encontrar mis bordes. But, are borders real? And, are borders just a phase?

Boricua Beauty and Friends

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