FACT: Butterflies can see more colors than humans can. I know butterflies. They are like me: transcending migrating flying everywhere nowhere sleeping on whatever flower stays open at night. Las alas florescent yellow sometimes blue spots like wide eyes looking at you,
& mí mouth will not remain closed the stink of vodka & tequila will whisper to the sky how much I miss you your silky hair covering your long eyelashes the way that smile makes wrinkles around your ojos. But the clouds are angry tonight the ocean too the waves crashing one on top of another spindrift rising like smoke up into the black the songs of seagulls no where to be heard flying somewhere unknown,
FABRICATION: Smoking a joint of the good stuff makes you immortal. Marijuana slips down throat & into lungs like snake bringing you uncontrolled laughter then you get the munchies you feel like no one can keep hurting you your arms become wings & you parade around the living room like a plane a volar! making weird noises bumping into whatever’s in your way,
& mí mouth is open four invisible molars sticking out like thorns the faint smell of mouth wash coming from somewhere inside the cracks on my lips remind me of you the way you ran your index finger over them telling me to buy some Chapstick to look in the mirror & see what you saw the clouds were never grey when you were here your curves on top of me your lean hairy legs tickled mí cuerpo under the sheets the way everything disappeared for a moment leaving only moans & heavy breathing our souls taking flight together up into the blue or black I don’t remember,
FACT: Three years have passed & still I continue to cook for two leave your placemat there where you left it the dirty jeans on the chair your iPad still charging & I just finished paying our rings the ones you & your mother chose in Paris: I wear mine on my left hand yours on my right sometimes I wear your underwear too hoping to feel your warmth when I’m cold the way you used to make tea while smoking a cigarette staring off into nothing getting lost somewhere unknown knowing everything nothing ignoring me when I called your name from the living room pretending I was not there & you were absent but present.
Luis Lopez-Maldonado is a Xicanx poeta, playwright, dancer, choreographer, and educator, born and raised in Southern California. He earned a Bachelor of Arts degree from the University of California Riverside in Creative Writing and Dance. His poetry has been seen in The American Poetry Review, Foglifter, The Packinghouse Review, Public Pool, and Spillway, among many others. He also earned a Master of Arts degree in Dance from Florida State University, and a Master of Fine Arts degree in Creative Writing from the University of Notre Dame, where he was a poetry editorial assistant for the Notre Dame Review, founder of the men's writing workshop in the St. Joseph County Juvenile Justice Center and the Recipient of the Sparks Summer Fellowship 2016. He is currently a co-founder and editor at The Brillantina Project. www.luislopez-maldonado.com