Mi suspiro es suave, muy suevecito como un viento tranquilo. Mis pulmones se siente como si pies estan caminando sobre un huevito fragil que todavia no estaba listo para quebrase. Mi sonrisa despues que

Hello, Dtubers and fellow Steemians, I'm @camposmusing and I am reading to you a little impromptu poetry set-list Unwelcomed Thievery No Era La Misma De Antes Master Baker How to Avoid Relapse Warp Speed

We kiss. Cracking ribs burst. Lungs birth out galaxies, our tongues push them upward and exchange a foreign universe. We saliva swap the Cosmos. Our eyes open. We realize there is much within each other

With Hunger Jesus asked me to present to him the person I love most. I showed him my mother. I told him how she's playing God's substitute while God is gone. I told Jesus how my mother broke loaves of

God knows we can heal gently from grief when we mix the ashes of our loved one into art. What if there is neither flesh nor bone that can be found of the one I’ve lost? Do I pluck skin from belly button

These arms are roots tangling at the fingers, stuck carrying the ghost weight of two babies my body couldn’t birth. Their names carved on the bark of my womb, Motherhood seems like sacrificial soil. How

Cut off my ear then tape it underneath my rib cage. The wheezing will come quicker this way, & I’ll hear how heavy breaths weigh down lungs that have been drowning in 66 weeks of unsaid apologies.

I am not a qualified beauty candidate for the latest makeup trends. The excitement to become a candidate encourages me to continue working on healing my body. My imperfections are visible signs of not

Fall is here and the great hunt is about to begin. Our hunts are not about trophy wins or a sports outing. The hunting my family does every year is about putting meat up in the pantry and and saving it

the orient philosophy “The first noble truth, the truth of suffering, is to be fully understood: the task it assigns us is that of full understanding. A hallmark of the noble ones is that they do not flow

If No Saint Appears In the crack of the egg, olive oil’s stir, and the sizzle in frying, there’s a symphony composing itself. Add a touch of basil when it’s almost at the end of its song. Heat up tortillas.

For an old friend I question the sanity of a man the moment he decides to leave a good woman. How can he forget when she swallows she does it out of love. For her there is no better nourishment then to

Barrio to Barrio, Conchas y Churros En La Mano Father’s hands had the chance to learn how to roll out dough and make conchas, cuernitos, y cochinitos de pan. He could have birthed a passion for stirring

Bastardo de Guadalajara Every time I scrapped my knees, had boohoo eyes and fevers I would receive my father’s verbal lashings: You’re weak. Stop crying. Do not come to me. Run off to your mother. Your

The first slice into an onion, those tears that swell from eyes smother me every morning. My hands feel so light, not enough weight in them. I don’t dream about the blood anymore. Stomach too flat, not

Puerto Rico is getting supplies. The Catalonian people voted to be independent. Egypt was caught purchasing black market weapons from the North Korea. The Cabal is pushing their agenda, what was the motive

purple autumn cherry colored skies tangerine painted sun d r i p p i n g sweet nectar dreams w a r m i n g virgin bodies that are ready to explode from holding too much love within

Angels kicked from heaven shake their wings violently until they bleed on bridges, streets, roof tops, everywhere. Fits of rage that last minutes, hours, days. We confuse this for rain. Who would have

Like lust in the chill of the grave I find myself waiting desperately for death to evaporate slowly into vertebrae crevices tug at every organ releasing me into the arms of a dimension that holds you tightly

Letters for Eternity We write as if to believe God himself will read our words out loud to his angel legions. Command them to memorize our sonnets, odes, and prose with hope that they will sing our lines