13 de enero, 2008

here, in this second story hotel room
with walls of pink 3/4 of the way up
no painted line is straight
colors drip into other colors
a red laced curtain
blows in the wind

alone,
i have been writing
unaware of time.

on the table,
two apples and a banana
smile at me;
32 pesos
will carry me across the border.

33 years ago
i came out of my mother
and i am content
to be living
before i die.

tapachula, chiapas, mexico