Elena Medel



Your hatred of colors finished her off: your hatred

of the pagan and razor blades. Flamsteed takes her away

from her stomach ache: It is my structure, I will die beside her.

You have what you wanted. It was Alicia: not the diamond. No

destruction: yes you turned your back, you bit so deep.

An easy mechanism. An easy task. Swallow.

Saying goodbye was like the last beer with

your best friends. Light bulbs are fragile:

just like their filaments, she turned out broken.

Bug-eyed, my spherical night, cavities in your greeting, inevitable

vomit: how much you wanted, in your hands. You are

happy, you made it. Reincarnated in both

women and men, you dance with yourselves

while your false gold language rusts:

by mistake, you stepped into small pools of poison, you smeared  

the entry to the bedroom.

You insist on a name she doesn’t have, calling to her

I always loved you, I take your hand, I don’t know another pain

that hasn’t been ours.

You did it. You got rid of her. On your nightstand

her small body breathes shallow breaths so she doesn’t wake you:

less air, less air, small, stupid.

                                                                               Will you kiss her dead body?



Translated by Emily Vizzo and Curtis Bauer


 You can read and listen to the poem in the original Spanish here.