La Rubia

I looked down from the second floor of my apartment. Even through the rusted metal bars of the fire escape, her ethereal beauty was evident. She wore a brown fur coat, skin tight leggings and a V-neck deeper than the Caribbean Sea. It was as though the street lamps were all centered towards her. Her long blonde hair looked golden, her hazel eyes were a river of honey, her body was a perfect hourglass, and her smile resembled your stereotypic Latina on a Colgate commercial. I guess you could say that she was la rubia that they sang about in typical bachata songs. She stood there, eyes gazing up at me, and all the criticism about her I had endured from family members disappeared. She’s my mom nonetheless, and no matter all the wrongs she’s done to me, and how seldom I see her, it’s a bond that you can’t shake off. The warm orange street lamps casted shadows over her newly done breasts, and they were inviting of the motherly love she was trying to present by calling my name.

It's in...

It's the arc of your eyebrows 

And the fullness of your lips 

That makes me want to drown in you 

As you swim in my abyss 

Beauty In A Stranger

I fell in love with the idea of him playing his guitar while we laid askew on his bed. I’d wear one of his white T’s while he only wore  the guitar around his chest. I’d hide under his white sheets which bore the smell of him, and I, and us.

And he’d play to me and I’d sing to him and our bodies would melt into one and it would be a beautiful juxtaposition of two brown skins finding harmonious peace in each other

Only Ones Who Know

I wish to speak intricately placed words that ignite a light, and splatter a juxtaposition of colors on the canvas of your heart.

The Absurd

"I feel like people think this is weird" 

But we are just over thinking 

People are so used to having trivial conversations to pass the time, so it scares them when they hear something out the ordinary... The absurd 

Purple Hues of Disapproval

The purple hues of fist sculpted wounds 

dented her face, 

shoulders, 

stomach 

and thoughts 

as she beat herself up with her self-conscious hate 

and disapproval of herself. 

Flooded

Her confidence was only a mere projection of who she wanted to be

Because on the inside she was fighting a battle worse than the ones over seas. 

The water came in, 

and flooded her from within. 

Such that she was drowning in an abyss 

and contemplating sin. 

Her remains floated to the surface, and that's where she stood. 

An eternal portrayal of who she wanted to be, a self creation from the womb. 

Analysis:

Locked

Those locks became locked straight 

In her routine efforts to assimilate

She looked at the reflection with content:
she fostered to create an image than can be upheld by men. 

But her inside screamed of regret
and the locks screamed of reject. 

Polar Ice Caps

Polar ice caps

Of bi tendencies

That were once cold, rigid outbursts 

Of emotionally, frozen intricates 

Melted into puddles of vast warmth, eminence

Analysis: