October is the culprit
October was not
A common month of winds
And flying kites elevated by cipotes.
October….
The silence collapsed,
I was conjured woman,
Made you a man
We undressed the space of pretexts,
And love was
A sweet battle of sweats.
October disguised himself
June, January, March,
Flows in my veins, as then,
Stalking, without measuring the consequences;
October, partner, is to blame.
(Book: Pieles de Mujer)
Curriculum vitae
In addition to being a poet,
Half mother;
A while in the evenings
And the weekends,
Seamstress,
Empirical nutritionist,
Self-taught physician,
Artisan inspired,
A little librarian,
Unpublished writer
some studies
In letters and sociology;
It should be added:
Windbreaker,
Dream collector
-with the respective cost
Of tears, laughter
And sleeplessness,
that is to say,
Untamed love
Of the miracle universe,
Of the eternal movement,
… of the life.
(Book: Women’s skins)
To your crazy loves …
We,
Slaves, courtesans,
Medieval nude
Under iron belts,
Plucked wings.
We,
Women skin-love,
Human beings of light,
Sap of the new time;
Paremasas of the time
No time to dream it.
We,
Sisters since forever
Ours,
We inaugurate the life
Where our hands
Find our hands,
Where the light of a
Be the light of all
and so on,
Multiplicatively …
(Book: Women’s skins)
To my daughter…
Yes daughter,
I would like to be, sometimes,
The most normal mother
of the world
for you;
Although you always see me
Kicking his tail
To my dreams,
Running,
Self-absorbed
Exhausted,
Crazy and happy
In spite of so much anguish,
My sweetest dream
it’s you
Y
I would like to run away
This morning from work
To jump horse tun-tun
Taken from your hands
To iron your uniform
Give you the warm meal
Leave you at the door of the school
And give me a kiss
And tell me until afternoon mom
Like most girls
And I tell you until the evening my love
With everyday life
Of a normal mom
On a common day
Without feeling knot
the heart.
(Book: Women’s skins)
Pride
Recognize the skin of the ancestors in mine
His pride and the voice of his nahuales in my destiny.
Do not give a breath to the lie.
Search the codes the lineage memory
In the ink of my veins.
Cleanse me the darkness of pettiness
And to be fish in rivers that moisten deserts.
Listen to the beat of life
That turns in the second
His unlimited voice of eternities.
Touch my chest and feel the haughtiness of my past
In the truth of the times
Its spiral
Leaving again in my hands
This left of faith
Still throbbing.
( Book: Left that still palpitates)