Oruga, polilla, mariposa--
Caterpillar, moth, butterfly--
there was no other stucco and tile alleyway to walk down,
no other dish to taste,
no other moon for the coyote to sing under,
by the end of that summer with you.
Velas, beso, caricia--
candle, kiss, caress--
there was nothing left but to wrap myself in your blankets...
rojo, blanco, naranja--
and set myself solitary for the months it took
to turn my love from a careless flow through open fingers,
to a dry distillation,
paper wings of poems
that remember you, and though changed,
it is still me, corazon,
never far from the flame...
oruga, polilla, mariposa--
For Susan's bi-lingual challenge at Poets United. My Spanish, 30 years after leaving San Antonio, is spotty at best. I hope I haven't mangled it!
rojo, blanco, naranja--red, white, orange.