I count the veins that are evident
in each part of my body. What is out
is told as simple as the subtleness of few
veins evident on my left foot. There is no
hiding, just learning another tongue.
I learn to possess in English
what I take for granted in other
languages: my body.
In English there is always the risk
of losing a part—disowning
what I firmly attach to myself
with my. The reminders as constants,
the remainders of a relationship.
I am fearless when in Spanish I can feel
my body as my own and let it go on
to observe a distance: to unfold
apart I can afford one more breath.