I’m from candle-lit stories and animal shadows
during brown-outs. I’m from tatay’s hands –
when rubbed together – sound like waves tenderly
blanketing sand. I’m from taking the scenic route
to the mailbox. I’m from the National Association
for the Advancement of Charlie Brown. I’m from
those red swirlies in a child’s finger painting. I’m
from homemade horchata – the waitress twirling
her daughter like a daisy between your fingers.
I’m from the soft electricity found in wooden wind
chime. I’m from the leaves of the makahiya. I’m from
hitting rocks over the fence with a 2×12 into Del Sol
Blvd. I’m from doing backstrokes in the poet’s pool
of muddied waters. I’m from that earth splitting twang
from a stickered guitar named after a doused flame.
I’m from making your own goddamn quotes.
- View more from Matthew Villaluz.