When it’s over

Every ending leads to nostalgia

Inside her lives a mountain of memories and a lifetime of hopes and what ifs.


To live again

On the nights the sky looks how it did then

I think about the way the light of the moon lit us into tomorrow

Easing us into the sunrise

And arriving at the chance to be anew.

With new Eyes

Sometimes I leave in the middle of a poem

I let my mind ferment

Bask in my heart

Glide with silence

And my return becomes a new arrival

Lessons from the Sun

I think about the patience the sun has with the earth. The way she moves and makes sure every inch of the earth receives a little bit of sunlight. I strive to have that kind of patience. To leave a little light in everyone I meet and everything I touch.

Questions for a man

How does it feel to know the loneliness living in your stomach is what lead you to the entrance in between her legs?

Does the emptiness crawl up to your lips and meet hers halfway?

Does her hair drape down like curtains in attempt to hide her shame?

Do you think she’s as insecure as you because her body is the only language she knows how to speak?

Does she wonder how you touch the bones on her back and think of how my spine had mountains growing as you went lower?

Do her words hold your ego or do they bring softness to the places inside you that need it most?

Does her pale skin remind you of the cold past your father left behind?

Do you wonder why my soul and body keep you begging for more?

Does she know she tastes like regret and bitter wine?

Do you wonder how you became who you promised you would never be?

Surviving you

My ancestors survived a genocide

Women in my lineage have survived centuries of abuse from men that told them love tasted like betrayal and beat them into silence

My mother survived a country that promised her gold but did not tell her that she would break every-time she made a long-distance call home

My father survived a country that swallowed his dignity with every English word he could not pronounce

And yet, I am here doubting if I can survive the loss of you

As if I had never shattered into the stratosphere and returned brighter and more whole

My whole life is one revival after another

And you are just another poem that my mouth had to spit out

I cannot doubt my resilience it is the most concrete thing I posses