I cut my nails.
They were the longest they’ve ever been,
strong and sharp and all mine.
I say it was for my new job,
but no matter how many times I scrubbed them
I couldn’t wash off your memory from under them
how they became talons
how I used them to mark you
how for once, I was the predator.

-Laura Andrea

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We both wore yellow.
I never wear yellow.

We spoke of revolution
joy
fearlessness
duty
as if it mattered and it didn’t
cause it does and it doesn’t
like us,
you and I,

me.
In the end, that’s all.

-Laura Andrea

I still write about you
but to remind myself
that I was too much for your grasp
that I blessed your fingertips
fed your eyes
and nourished your soul
despite your poison
your venom
your liking her but loving me

-Laura Andrea

And then I learned that you were also fleeting.
It felt cruel,
almost worthless,
that life would continue to toy with me like this
a permanent heart nomad.
As if our time
was enough for love.

-Laura Andrea

Puedo olvidar tus caricias,
tus transgresiones,
tus viradas,
tus misiones.
¿Pero tus ojos?
Imposible.
Esos andan quemados en mi piel,
mi mente, mi corazón,
mi bolígrafo.
Aún no he encontrado tinta
que los marquen tan bien como tú.

-Laura Andrea

I’ve been missing your touch
and the ways you told me I was perfect.
I no longer wish for you
but I miss it,
yearning the possibilities,
fantasies of you in my bed
and me in your heart.

-Laura Andrea

We were more equal than I gave us credit

You were joyful at sea.
I was there your first time.

Today it reminds me of when you ran
your hands through my hair
of when you slipped
them under my dress.

I preferred your touch to the sunrise
I felt the rays in your fingertips
and the soft colors with your lips.

You ways came back to me
as a place to rest your grip
away from home.

-Laura Andrea

Preciosa

You grasped my neck
while Marc Anthony sang of home.
You remembered
when I said I liked drowning in the Caribbean sea,
that I stopped my breathing to stop time
to feel a quietness,
a calm,
as foreign to me as this land.
So you grasped my neck,
your hands becoming the water I yearn.
They flooded my canals and draped my mountains
becoming another storm that would wreck me.

-Laura Andrea