Photo by Joelle Santos @azuquita.prieta
“Get inside the hips of a plane
Travel millions light far from el caldero
de arroz
Learn a new form to love
the
inside-out of your translated words
But I tell you, honey
light travels back
and that body is full of symmetry
expect it to reflect
the life you
left
B
E
H
I
N
D.”
Color de carne, skin color, colored hands, hands colored with pieces of the Atlantic’s warm stomach /spinal cord of pueblos indigenas / pacific thunder and drastic rain, you tell me, tú me dices, I can’t paint the billboards of my skylines with my words (mís palabras) because I am brown and “brown” means backwardness, atrazao’, Old World, smelling like machetes and an uncivilized big wide mouth? My skin will tell you everything you need to know, I will keep writing because brown means I can write in the corners of my people’s minds, I can speak/write/scream/be myself/be unique and still be my type of civilización, and I can be diferente , something, my darling, you lack.
—“Minority”
This a collaboration with the artists and writer @Masproblemas. This is one of his illustrations.
You see heart breaks, I just see new material to write about.
I will immortalize you with my words even if you don’t deserve it.
@Masproblemas
Is that your new hobby to break damn good hearts and then going around shallowing your pride?
Mark the lines of this poem with
another piece of your phosphorescent lies
I’ll make sure you regret it
I’ll make sure you won’t survive
I’ll show you what a real woman is like
making you full
reminding you where you came from,
the same tunnel you are running away from.
F.P. @Mujerconvozpoetry
Mujer con Voz Poetry 