A poem…

My heart leaned
toward the Caribbean
It was a heavy lean,
one weighted in
mangoes, guenepas, coconuts,
and congas newly bathed
in palm oil, freshly pressed.

The weight was laden
with the ritmo of plena,
and the rain cascading
from purple-beaded shekeres,
laden with the mashed pulp
of sugar cane, and aguelo’s
sweeping machete.

The unbalance held
the fever
that accompanied
the red-burnt skin
of those who had left
and forgotten
how the coquis sang their song,
as the sun
knelt before the
Earth it had kissed all day long.

Weighted with the
divinity of the trees,
who Huracan left alone,
whose leaves danced in the windsong.

My heart leaned, heavy,
weighted,
by the thought of you,
swimming in the blue,
swimming, an ocean song, away from me.

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