midnight dreaming

a home with large windows. wooden floors. a backyard where yellow roses frame a view of an empty ocean. there is an abundance of stars that glisten in the water. this is one of the many dreams i’ve whispered to the moon, who is full of secrets. secrets that don’t need to be said aloud.

she watches me try to balance being a good daughter and being true to my desires. she knows how badly i wish the two would overlap more often.

she warns that such freedom is loneliness.

i remember a time i laid below the night sky. the plethora of stars reflected endless possibilities: home with large windows. writing poems in mexico. coffee with friends. walking on portugal beaches. sipping wine in italy. bountiful sleep in the arms of my lover.

a shooting star combusts across the sky, and i wonder if this was a dream, too.

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watercolors

i used your wet kisses
a pile of worn love notes
and the motley wavelengths of euphoria
to paint our forever,
a forever ignited by
our tangled energies that could
awaken the dawn at midnight.

in the kaleidoscopic chaos of it all,
the inconspicuous slipping of your energy
had fully dissipated at the first
breath of daybreak
and the double stitching of our fates
had been snipped.

i used the remnants of our tomorrow
memories of blurred passion
and fragments of you, of us
to paint our forever–
a watercolor.

unwritten rules

one of the first porches i sat on was yours.
your papá built it himself. he painted it red,
white, a pale yellow–explosions of color on a
roll of film, the black and white silhouettes being
our homes. your mother brought us quesadillas
she coated with butter and toasted in the oven,
and after i had the first bite i told you a secret i
unwillingly hid from the world. i want to go to one
of the best colleges in the u.s. i’m going to go
far, because i like adventures.

you noticed i didn’t laugh with you,
so you explained the joke.
if my family couldn’t even own property,
how could i own an education?

astral projection

a soft haze wraps the body,
enrapturing its wholeness without the
haunting of an elusive psyche–a collection
of auratic stardust weaving through
the constellations of our reality, devising one of the many
astral realms we are a part of. the swirling chaos of it all,
of the pandemonium risen from the unveiling of the universe,
breaks the linearity of time and our bodies as its measurement.