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Letter #28

April 29, 2012

If I play my cards right

she won’t ever know

I spend my time

not  thinking of  her

and despite myself

her voice is like the moon

this  close to the ocean-

she wipes every female

off the face of the earth.


And I don’t know Spanish well

the few words I remember

from  high school  are no help

but when she marshals  those words into breathing

shifting from  a convivial  mariachi song

to the staccato challenge of a flamenco dancer

her eyes  blazing  like a topaz sunset

I laugh with her , I cry with her

I fight with her,

I believe.


I know things happen for a season

and soon I’ll spend my time

not thinking of her words

or the mouth that shaped those words

and everyday I will forget her name

mariposa, mariposa

and her  blinded  wings

dame un beso  me gustas pero-

vuelas al sol-

my cards played right,


you will never know

I was lost in translation.




( a painting in progress)




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