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comprare viagra generico 200 mg spedizione veloce a Napoli SUNFLOWERS IN WINTER — GIRASOLES EN INVIERNO

quanto costa viagra generico 200 mg online a Roma ‘Ay, ay, ay, quisiera llorar pero estoy cantando.’

miglior sito per acquistare viagra generico spedizione veloce a Firenze ‘Ay, ay, ay, I wanted to cry but I am singing.’

click here Ana Gabriel, El Último adiós

go IMG_1542[1]

go On dark winter days,

go to link She fades out-of-place,

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Comprare Cialis online Viagra prezzo It shards wrapped in English.

see Brown skin in grayscale,

Her tears trapped in ice,

She abandons the city

And wilts in the stairwell —


But the ghosts of the ancestors

Squat on the mat in the doorway,

With glistening eyes and palanca,

Arms open wide to receive her

With soft gusts of magic,

Invisible threads of herstory

To guide her —

She trudges upstairs while

The snow in her hair turns to diamonds,

Her pupils, from granite to velvet.

Her paper bag blossoms with churros

She bought at the Wednesday market —

Slinging her birthright around her

Like a mystical, amber rebozo,

She graces her easel,

Filling the canvas with sunflowers

Diego Rivera would dance for

To songs that run deep with tequila —

Her heritage, bright yellow blood,

Beats through her paintbrush

Into the grains of the linen —

The sunflowers illumine the room

In saffron abundance —

Speckled with sugar and amber acrylic,

She speaks with her hands to the canvas,

Coaxing the golden heads sunward,

Strumming the petals like a mariachi’s guitarra

Until they unfurl from her fingers,

Swaying high in the blue to the music —

She kneels in the green-yellow shade,

Caressing the stems she’s created —

Through earthen-warm shadows

She glimpses the orange-clay rooftops,

A flash of her grandmother’s apron —

The first drop of oil in the skillet

Rings in her ear like the chord of a ballad

Her father would weep to in family fiestas —

M’hija — M’hija — m’hija

Her abuela whispers behind her

With fresh-fried nopales and sopa —

She smells the cilantro and then the pozole,

She swallows the memory of charred corn tortillas.

In the light of the sunflowers,

She feels herself slowly becoming,

Her roots diving into the soil,

Her brown face turned blueward,

Her halo erupting in a golden aurora —

She had wanted to cry in the snow

But heart in full bloom,

She is singing — ay, ay, ay, — she is singing —

The ghosts of the ancestors

Gather, alegres, around her,

With transparent arms and palanca,

Dancing, they bless and protect her —

Su girasol bello en invierno,

Their beautiful sunflower in winter.














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