Ruiseñor

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Childhood fragments curl in

abrazando el día cuando

you first graced the earth.

Ya me acuerdo

your love-cracked voz

cantando un weary lullaby.

Envuelto en slow-coaxed syllables,

the universe shadow hums along,

it’s dappled verde melodía fortalezando

el voz de un creador, siempre

seamed with holes and hope.

El mundo shimmers in surety,

as I feel mis raíces subiendo

los murmullos de mis antepasados

cruzando entre

your nightingale words.

la mano, tender and worn,

rests on my forehead

en la bendición de las madres.

mi alma siempre lleva

part of yours, mamá

y por eso

I am grateful.

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Linger

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Morning dangles from my fingertips

as I wake still half-submerged

in my dream’s disruptive cocoon.

Though the sun

weaves a path through the clouds,

i can still taste the unfurled potency

of Morpheus’s playground

etching jagged pockmarks

into the dream-stained day.

The golden haze of first blush

beckons, radiating reassurance

but i, unassured

still blink reverie shards

from troubled lashes.

Seed sharp roots murmur of elsewhere,

ruthlessly teasing my mind’s edges

as they sketch

illegible writings on the wall,

twilight harnessed

in a gambler’s glimpse

of the space between worlds.

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