Don’t date women with stretch marks.
Do yourself a favor… and run.
¡Corre! ¡Corre! Run far
away from them, like
you’re in a marathon to
a black hole, you’re not
going back to Earth.
Ellas son la Tierra,
swallowing your memory,all
up to the moment
you see her.
They know how to
use their white lines
against you.
They know what it’s
like to be stretched
all the way… into a poem
pull all the way back
like Afro-Caribbean hair,
pull back like a metáfora
and still be glorious
and still be alive
having a permanent mark
on you.
You would be missing…
under her curvy smile,
you, will be
like an empty black
and gray wall
in lower Manhathan
on a lower backstreet
finally…
finally…
full of colorful graffiti.

—F.P.