WHAT PACE WE LIVE AT

I was on a run in the late afternoon. The rain had passed, but the sidewalks showed where its presence had been. I was careful, conscious of how the bottoms of my shoes would do against the icy pavement. It was my first experience jogging in true winter temperatures. My focus was taken away. It was led to the fragrance much like the one of my grandmother's cabin that sits on Mt. Graham, the highest peak of the Pinaleño Mountains in southeastern Arizona. I followed the scent, allowing my mind to take the nostalgic course. My mind fled backwards into a youth of pinecones and tricycles and dirty cheeks as I, now much older and somewhat tainted in comparison, jogged forward into an unknown second, every second. It wasn't so bad being back there, tucked into a warm nest of family, card games, sugar that didn't make me sick, and my very own bakery that specialized in Mud Pies. The ice under my feet began to feel dangerous again. I continued on, running further and further away from my bakery—in time and in character. I continued forward, growing older.

180

sometimes

following your gut 

means swallowing

a load of cash

and turning around

but you do it

because,
she's right,
that's

the essence of life

"CABECEO"

I lied in the bathtub
isolating body parts
big toe
elbow
knee
wrist
moving them just slightly one by one
once the water was still again


the water rippled off of my every move
I watched it dance around me
begging me to do it again
as it would calm
I would
big toe
elbow
knee
wrist

the symbiosis of our movement—
despite the contrast—
fed me much thought

the missing piece to my
tango orillero was now
complete

"BEFORE THE MUSIC"

I forgot how long the days become
without the touch of your fingertips
atop my cheeks, down my thigh
across my back, lining my spine

the seconds melt into hours
my sheets open up like the sea

I wait and wade
and wade and wait
for you to drift back

so we can
dance
before
the
music
begins
again

"BREAK EVEN"

a moment of breaking

is
equally

a moment of healing

"SERENDIPITY"

reawakened by a note

let down your arms

"BREACH"

aching from the gut
hidden on my skin
reminded of
the gap between
where I stand and what I desire
a bridge binding their distance
patience is gathered
like glass
when I run across
curing
the
ache in my gut