Nothing surprises an immigrant more then someone speaking their language— be it someone from the same country as them, or not. If familiarity had a language, for me, it would be Portuguese. The sing-song tone of it; the altos and lows and letters and punctuations that don’t exist in any other language I’ve studied. I’ve studied four.  So I’m in this coffee shop, right? And I’m nervous; I’m rea...

As my mind reaches new depths My pain soars to unknown heights Time is no aidNo bandage can soak the bloodMy chains weigh me down as I try to growAs the casing drops so does my faithBluer than the deepest oceanFrom red heart to grey stoneOn top of the hill wind whispers in my faceAs if He is blowing straight from His mouthLooking beyond the horizonHead filled with dementing, doubtful, deceiving...

He and I We invariably decay, From too much infatuation. It’s the pedigree you pay for loving the absolute lariat, who’s contemplative, pensive and glorious, above. Leaves you for days, to not  consider, or shunEvery move is spoken clear,get better and climb the rudder’s rear so that you can fall down the steps. We, don’t side with anotherHold a hunk of him, always near The tranche, hidden unde...

What a waste of spacesaid the hope not kissing upa rainbow flag, just knocked aboutsomewhere beyondthe sunny hills of Teheranlitres of hate are lashing downstreaming clockwise towards the DNA of involutionpromoting their right to be young folks larking it upordering censorship at the  barWhat a waste of sweatsaid Jesus not coming downfrom the cross, pungently holdinga sarcastic comment:We're no...

A child smilesand runs through water from a sprinkler and runs across the playground and she understands nothing but everything makes senseA girl smilesand skips through a school halland holds a notebook in her handand is content with the world she has created after discovering it’s much better than the one she was born intoAnd she smilesas she walks through the big doorsbut soon realizes she i...

It is not for you to catch all the fires that find theirflight to Guernica | the cinder settles on the paletteafter being coughed from the lung, this was yourhome, that which was swelling on the pasture ofeach breath you struggled to unearth | how manyhours were lost with the gazania now sharing theafterlife with the woven blanket laced by the bentfingers of your sleeping grandmother who did no...

fallen between the abstract | a distant hallelujah          next to the clovesI slip and am unsalvageable, but I know howforgiveness is shaped even if I have never knownthe scent of purity | lashing out at horns thatbreed like passing streetlights before the fire ever began           nightswithout fire, without heat | the estrangementnow named home, the fireflies of Connecticutthat move me from...

speaking as if I am bent / theseare the knuckles of late augustbullying what is left of softenedgrains in their nascent, on earth  an Iberian fen is my focus I make too much room for firewhere my ancestors spared life a peninsula saving the sea, the years are borne of draughtand sun / in knots, carryingmyself into the past through my own cheek, squeezed intopalmfuls of warm black fruitto build ...

It is not for you to catch all the fires that find theirflight to Guernica | the cinder settles on the paletteafter being coughed from the lung, this was yourhome, that which was swelling on the pasture ofeach breath you struggled to unearth | how manyhours were lost with the gazania now sharing theafterlife with the woven blanket laced by the bentfingers of your sleeping grandmother who did no...

I throw words like playing cards onto a table; flirty challenges and gentle jabs, light and gliding, with a smile and an airy laugh. I throw words like javelins, missing my mark, burying softly into some other patch of heart, leaving my hands heavily empty. I throw words onto pages, like ripping out a tooth, hoping that they will extract alongside them the words of yours  that are carved into m...

I throw words like playing cards onto a table; flirty challenges and gentle jabs, light and gliding, with a smile and an airy laugh. I throw words like javelins, missing my mark, burying softly into some other patch of heart, leaving my hands heavily empty. I throw words onto pages, like ripping out a tooth, hoping that they will extract alongside them the words of yours  that are carved into m...

There I was, sitting by the stream.Tossing pebbles, wondering what else needs to be seen.I got my destiny and I'm writing my story.But what else is meant for me?If I go down this road, promise me my heart will be filled with joy and peace.Promise me that even through hell, I make out in one piece.Joy of laughter.The happiness of living happily ever after.I'm hoping I see you there.Promise me th...