El Universo Nuevo
(Or) On writing my first poem in Spanish
A high table by the stairs, a diffracted sunset in the distance. Más olivas, por favor, I hear myself say to the waiter absentmindedly. That nape, casually warping light into silent song. An image sent hurtling down the spine, echoing in plain sight. Fingers meet pen, pen meets serviette, a new geometry in ink. Quiero pintarte, querida, en un lienzo de palabras. A smile in exchange for a sentence, that is how you build a universe. [9:12 pm, 18th August 2023, Centro, Oaxaca de Juárez.]
