Read this in Spanish
mamá and papi
the constant reminders
that move my nostalgia back and forth
making grief and tenderness
the same thing
I sit down to revisit memories
me eñangoto
I scrabble as if looking for ñame
skirting the shore of an archipelago
of memory
so bombed
that it scattered from the highest mountain peak
to the furthest corner of Vieques
—I only remember horses
and a millenary root—
roses, orchis, bateas, cactus, coffee, plátanos, ajíes caballeros, mud, rain, mountains, ghosts, snakes, cold, sorullos, hot chocolate, manteca, man, pitorro, teas, broken welding (…)
I try to decipher time’s code
unblock memories
free voids like a flash flood
while a little chágara
hides under a rock
trying to survive
the current’s impact