I AM
running backwards
heels levitating
spine erect
i bounce against the concrete
gripping on
my elbows
they are raised
over my head
my fingers intertwine
my cheeks inflate
eyes wide open
fierce almond shapes
glaring at the world
in reverse
my teeth exposed
laughing
i feel myself
fall and fly
at the very same
time
I AM
i remember
body parts
skin, stubbly
rough, never soft
sweat
always there
a slip unkind
my fingertips could never quite
grab on
i remember
stomach, stretched
round, pulsing
smell of beer
steak
cologne I loved
faded
bitter
never seemed to
hang on
to these
pressed lips
sloppy mouths
vodka, whiskey
smell of rum
the only way
to feel you
i remember
i felt us shift
months of slipping
we fell and flew
together
asleep
the entire time
we never did
grab on.
my poems don’t rhyme anymore
they fall and they rise
or they keep falling
or keep rising
they twist your mouth
into uncomfortable shapes
they are awkward
unkind, they make sense
only to me
but still i wrap them
in myself
and gift them to you
the one with bright eyes
squinting in wonder
asking which words
which sounds
fit together
when do you pause
when can your tongue rest
you do not know
but still
here you are
my voice holds many tongues
but mostly the taste of iron
as english cuts my mouth
crashes into my molars
in jagged syllables
when i come home
i liberate my lips with spanish lullabies
that glide along my cheeks
and in between my legs
i am a bridge between two worlds
no — i am
the universe
I want to tattoo my body
with the image of my mother
watch my hands master spices
see my calves grow in size
so I too can run marathons
with four babies on my shoulders
When my voice turns into hers
My tongue will grow heavy
with tastes of herbs and te amo‘s
watch my whispers soothe cyclones
remind all daughters to breathe
again and again
When I crawl into her skin
and I taste the church’s wine
I see God underneath my eyelids
feel the lord’s blood join our own
and the darkness would feel warm
for the first time
I want to tattoo my body
with the image of my mother
so when I look in my reflection
I can finally believe
I too have the strength
of a thousand women
a six sentence story
It all started on a day like today. I decided to start a story with “It all started.” These three words, made of gunpowder to an unplanned rushed story, hold more potential than talent. When words refuse to lend themselves I write in a panic “It all started when my heart stopped working” or “It all started when he told me his sister died.” Yesterday told me to write “It all started when it never started at all.” Today, however, started like never before, on the cusp of tomorrow ending.
-tcm
Below is a short poem I wrote right after I realized a good friend of some time saw me as a checklist rather than a full person. It was the first time I realized that being in a relationship means compromising some parts of who you are in order to create other parts of yourself. However this relationship in particular was a compromise but very one sided. I lost who I was to make someone who ended up being a stranger happy. This poem was written in the format as a spoken word/prose poem. Enjoy: “Bed Sores”
TIFFANY MARTÍNEZ 