The Lighthouse
I was lying on my side,shuffling the oceans with my feet.
The same tropical weather crossed my back every few seconds,the same weather that has paintedall the wild tribes, the Canary coasts, and the equatorial zones on my bodywhile keeping their names…
Where have you dragged the Arctic Ocean?
A tuft of my hair is the black palm trees.My eyebrows, the path of the north wind.My hands are the sails in the Atlantic.My eyes, the lanterns.My lips, the trenches at the bottom of the sea…
She – Wolf – Vulture – Tiger
Do you see the snakes and chains on my shoulders?And had you seen the eagle’s nests in my two dark blind eyes?Have you seen the pigeons that have nested like a crown on my head?And the…
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The American Poetry Review (Digital) - 1 Issue, March/April 2025