My mother was neither cradle nor lap
She was a sword, an arrow, an argument
Beautiful, sharp, and feline
Neither refuge nor anchor, my mother was a battle
A step at a time
We load the car with your grief and mine
Two suitcases and the guitar
Grief, you treasonable thing
A brie aux truffes set the disturbance in motion
A home called Trudi
Money, power, titles, aesthetics, social class, or eloquence, never impressed her
Dogs live too short a life
A dogbituary
The Therapist
It would be a voyage, she said
The destination: a more genuine, examined, less fragmented, version of myself
Una niña, un hombre, una gabardina; lo indecible
Debía tener 11 o 12 años, vivíamos en Cali. Era un domingo y necesitaba una cartulina para una tarea del colegio.
Beyondness
Where does the mind disappear to when bad news strikes us?
Instructions for the newborn child
Crush lavender seeds in your fingers, and then, eyes closed, take a deep breath into your hands
The truth I hold between your legs
You press your warm body onto me
I am still half asleep
My body too desires you, but not yet
Relevos
Hoy vi a la viejita que llevo adentro
Determinada, atrevida se asomó sin escrúpulos
I’ll explain when you’re old enough to understand
“We will witness the arrival of modernity,” my father said as we left the house.
My sister’s name is Complicity
When I’m by her side, I slip back into my 7-year old me
Melba, the weaver
Melba became a pampered toddler; mothered by plenty, mothered by none
Superé la depresión; esto fue lo que me ayudó a mí
Sufrí de depresión por más de un año y me recuperé completamente. Estas son algunas de las cosas que hice que me ayudaron; tal vez algunas de ellas le sean útiles a otros, por eso las comparto:
Using words to make sense of experiences 