La "mente mezcla" se refiere a la capacidad del inconsciente para combinar pensamientos, experiencias pasadas y emociones, uniendo lo pensado con lo sentido...
—> Tightened grip on the bow Head on swivel No capacity for dreamy drivel Graphic avenger Novice huntswoman Apples, deer hearts, daggers, and mirrors Looking for Any sign: Tea leaves Fortune cookie Shooting star: That she shouldn’t release The arrow. Her back: a toned, tuned Maple violin Also bowed, always arching Chest out, nipples rigid The taught space Between her fingers, Sweat proof, carnelian resin grip Ready to strike But she does not loose Instead she points down, turns tail and mane Making her way for higher ground Flood gates are opening And hooves aren’t fins
I have a thing For a very specific type of face I need lips that match mine And skin that makes moonlight Seem as if it exists just for its bronze glow Visages of ancestors etched In smiles and tears alike Ya know? Just that, simplicity The things that make fleeting moments Seem less harrowing More seared and stitched Like leather And tight denim pockets Hands stuffed inside, too afraid to loose Their grip on one moment Feet so lofty They float out of cowgirl boots Cosplaying the West together Heads turn to us from every direction Those who count time, But never accounted for beauty like ours Friendship like ours Timeless It’s disturbing, yet validating 12 years in the making - 17 spinning suns distant This: It will be quick, Mortal accountant math considered… But when the universe speaks loudly, When it gives you one lil Chance And then another much different one You have t...
You asked why I wore My hair on top of my head Rather than down as you prefer And while it wasn’t an order, You used the same mouth that breathed Lost life into me just days before to say it, Sucking it right back out. A Mermaid’s curse My generational instinct to comply, Acquiesced to the request To think less of myself, Even if your intention Was to make me feel more free To throw my comfort to the nonexistent breeze, Shaking out each curl Medusa power as you speculated it could only be Performative to have it leashed, Taming my wild Against our heat, Not because: I just like it that way… I’ve lived so many lifetimes in this one Discrediting myself That I know I can’t risk any more As it feels like my siren song is waning So I put you in the file marked casual and casually think to myself with as much nonchalance as I’ll ever...
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