Eu penso…

Tudo tem seu lugar e seu final

Mas sempre ficarei ao seu lado

No seu coração

No seu beijo

No suas memórias em branco e preto


Com um filtro de suas idéias contra minha ideias

Você ficará meu furacão

Meu amor…

uma tormenta com milhões ventos

Frio e quente/quente e frio

Um dia me ama e outros me queima

fico amando-te


She made me strong. She showed me love. I don’t know exactly how, but she did. Maybe it’s because I saw her go through more than one perfect soul should have to go through in a lifetime. A short lifetime. Cancer is a killer, but it took a long time to take her. She was too precious, and I loved her–no, I love her, still, with all my heart. She stays alive within me. When I am going through a tough time I just think of her, she is there when I catch the subtle smell of the perfume she used to wear in the air.

I remember when she would sit me down and make me eat vegetables. She knew I didn’t like them and she couldn’t stand to see me squirm, but she would place the bowl in the palm of her hand and wrap her small fingers around the fork and beg me.

She showed me love, and made me strong by making me eat peas and broccoli.

She would make carrot cake every time I visited. She knew I loved the smell. I’d walk into the kitchen and she would smile, her cheeks blushed from the heat of the oven. 

Then she would grab my face and rub her little nose against mine. I felt her love through Eskimo kisses. 

I would cry for my mom some nights and she would climb into my bed smelling of Vicks and soothe me to sleep. She made me strong by letting me cry.

She was always in and out of sickness, but never down. In and out of treatment, but never in pain. In and out of my life, but never out of reach. She made me strong by being alive. Somehow, after years and years, cancer finally found a way to take her. I didn’t know. She didn’t tell me. She just died. She made me strong by not saying goodbye. She showed me love through Eskimo kisses.

Whimsical Thing 

I want to be this whimsical thing with dainty art on my body…

A cute haircut…

A killer clavicle.

I want to be this whimsical thing with a great sense of humor…

A love of eclectic things…

A passion for you.

I want to be this whimsical thing that can take your breath away with a kiss…

This whimsical thing that you love but you can’t figure out why…

This whimsical thing that you can’t bear to leave.

THAT love…

I want that ugly love 

That messy love

That sloppy love

That love that you don’t even know it’s love

Until it’s too late love 

I want that love that punches you in the gut 

Grabs you by the throat

And pulls out your vocal cords love 

that love that leaves you speechless love

That leaves you breathless love

I want that love that you hear on the radio 

That one song that never gets old

That love you smell on your pillowcase

The kind that you know was worth the chase

I want that dirty love 

That gritty love

That love that stays up all night 

When you’re feeling shitty love

That love that stays up all night 

Making me feel pretty love

I want the way that I walk to remind you of 

that love

I want the way that you play with my hair to remind me of 

that love

I want to sink into that love every night 

As we fall asleep.

That love that remains trapped inside tangled legs 

and too many blankets 

I want that sweet love

That dream love

That truth love, that surreal love

That make my heart beat real love

That love that you don’t even know its love

Until it’s too late 


THROWBACK THURSDAY Piece : “I Don’t Remember” 2002

I don’t remember my past lives, or what I ate last night for dinner…

I don’t remember when you said you loved me

I don’t remember when you left

I don’t remember how much money I spent this week, or what it would be converted in yen

I don’t remember sunset walks or moonlit talks, strolls in the park, or road trips on never ending highways

I don’t remember what chicken cacciatore tastes like, or carrot cake frosting

I don’t remember what your kisses were like, or the scar you have underneath your nose… right above your lip

I don’t remember catching fireflies, or setting them free, or even walking underneath persistent rains

I don’t remember being rushed, nervous, or even scared… I don’t remember your heavy stare

I can barely recall our memories… but do remember being blank

I don’t remember feeling this empty.  I don’t remember you.

Fight the Good Fight

I went to my best friend’s grandfather’s funeral today.  As I sat in the back of the room looking around at all the faces that I know and love and all the faces that I haven’t seen before, there was one face I couldn’t keep my eyes off of and that was the face of Juana, grandmother extraordinaire and wife of Leo, who is now laying in front of a packed room, at rest, for all of us to see.  I gazed upon her through my silent heartbreak as no one watched and I learned so much.  She was a woman in love with a man for 65 years, a love that traveled with them from Cuba, to the US and a love that created a family that could live on their hopes and dreams for the sacrifices they had made.

I had an epiphany, an awakening, an enlightenment that I had not had before.  I walked up to the casket with a tremble in my step, nervous and scared.  The last time I saw him he was asking me to dance and if I was going to smoke a cigar later.  “you’re looking great, mi niña.”  The knot in my throat grew and the tears rolled from my eyes and there on the top of the open casket, a note. It read “Leo, Te amaré por siempre, Nita” and that’s when it hit me, that no matter the things life throws at you, love is forever.  Real love fights the battles of heartache, war, sickness, and indifference and surpasses them and wins them with truth, honesty, and second chances.

It’s about the risks you take on finding that love that count and it is how your hands bleed from holding on to it so tight because you know it is home.  You know it’s your true north.

It was the moment I looked into her eyes, and saw the eyes of a teenager who just lost her first love- A watery mix of peace and angst; Heartbreak and acceptance- that it really hit me, life expires and it’s how you choose your path and the chances that you take which will define you as a person.

Life can be taken in a few moments and I realized that I shouldn’t be wasting my time waiting for things to happen to me, I should be taking the risks to get the things I want; not only in life, but in love.

On this day so close to celebrating 65 years of devotion, laughs, and cries, she remains to be a woman with a life fulfilled.  I thought to myself, this is how I want to be.  I want to know in my old age I fought for the things I wanted and I fought for the people I loved.