I would be lying in a bed cradled in your arms - in your arms, in your arms - it should be late into the night. You'd be awake despite yourself for me. We could be consciously breathing together.  I wouldn't think of myself as too clever, or too stupid. I would simply be immersed. In myself, in your arms, in the rhythm of your breaths. I would really honestly and effectively try to fall asleep next to you because I would want to wake with you.
In the day - that would be when.
When our efforts, when our bliss. When our blessings.

I wouldn't be afraid. I wouldn't be in guilt. I wouldn't be despite my past.
The space we had between us. Those years when there was nothing, they wouldn't have been in vain.

Years ago I was in a bar with this women, much older than me yet still young, and like women usually do, they were dishing about their exes. Horrible men.At some point, this Amazon was all smiles, full of sparkle as she toasted 'For the men that let us go.'
That was a powerful toast. She meant it. Had that asshole begged, or pretended to change his ways, distracted her in some way, she'd still be there - for him, despite herself. In hell.

I can sacrifice. I can. I have never. but I really want to think I can.
Any sacrifice I would do for you, would be wise, our greater good.
I have been dreaming about sweat, about effort, about greatness. Love.

 "I missed you so much"

i was thinking that maybe i could just allow myself to go mad.
i was trying to have self control and to make sure everything i accepted in me
was good.
i am not talking about being toxic and have no respect
i am talking about letting it all out and stop trying for other's people sake.
i know i have always been alone.
i know that when i wait for someone to take me i am just left waiting.
i am saying maybe i can just accept me
and turn the lights of the lighthouse off.
stop making promises that hurt if i don't keep them
and hurt when i feel forced to keep.
stop thinking of the collective and start thinking about me
stop trying to be good
and just know that i am good.
just know that my selfish desires are everything for them.
stop trying to pick the perfect gift
stop trying to show gratitude
stop showing up when they need me.
start showing up for me
start feeling me
knowing that i am the god damn gift.

i no longer know how to go mad
i used to know, but not anymore.
it is the promise of unsafe situations what bind me
nobody wants a good girl that can't be corrupted
so i say this is over.
i am a pillar and pillars don't go about following rules.
the lights of my lighthouse are turned off
i will face the darkness
i'll stop asking for help
and when someone gives me a hand, i will not care if i grip at it too hard

.....
Chama

aguantate.


Esas cosas que aprendiste a callar para ya no incomodar, sera que las gritas?

Como que esta mejor ser un chamo que se caga los pantalones a ser un podrido estreñido?

O te aguantas o te haces chorros de dolor y fascinación? O que?
O es que a ti si te sale? El dejarte

Las palabras que son para afuera
Aquello que no es solo hacia mi
Lo que entrego.
Chama , como que da lo mismo hasta que se vuelve el cuchillo
la huevada si corta.
Y el silencio, que? No tiene filo?

Oda Minimalista al Azadón

Contigo me voy
hasta la cangahua!

money does grow on trees

money does grow on trees.
money does grow on trees.
money does grow on trees.

oh i am so tired of stupid fuckers that cannot accept that
money does grow on trees.
water and sweat ; time, water and sweat
what is it you don't get?

electronic money? it is just a concept
it is there like air

so shut up you stupid whiner
and just trust in
time, water, sweat and air
cause yeah god damn it
money does grow on trees.
money does grow on trees.
money does grow on trees.
shit

cuento de amor entre el ruido y la Amazonia

Enero 2015, Lima

Camisón y encaje BLANCO. 
tu fresco sudor
tomo tu mano al subir a ese bote
el piso empapado
pies enlodados.

Piel 
blanca,
no tan blanca
pegajosa
de sudor
agua dulce 
tomas mi mano
Salvaje Testigo

Dos objetos en el espacio.
Dos corrientes 
agua dulce que rompe 
en choque 

Peces a la fuga
convulsión
peces 
Splish
Splash 

agua
mi mano 
cristalina
sudor
titilante 

quiebre
/
QUIEBRE
/
barca 
rota
abajo
no sueltes mi mano
en-amor
hundidos
al agua
hundidos donde es pesado y negro.
Negro
Negro
Monstruo 
miamor
amar 
en libertad
en alboroto
amar 
en rebelión
en oscuridad.
Corazón 
frito.
Corazón
Monstruo

0 ...,…1
Dos cuerpos hundidos en el espacio.
¿Quieres mi mano
todavía?

Negro. 
0, 
No
Off. 
Negro. 
Para!
0, 

agárrame cuando me hundo
susurra mi nombre 
aun si este lejos.

0,
negro. 
Inmenso monstruo eléctrico 
como gotas vos titilas 
rastro hondo de luz.

Hoyo 
/
Hueco
/
Silencio
/
negro nos transportas por distintas corrientes 
a donde sea
Iré. 

Dentro del hoyo negro
Tu, anda por tu lado. 

negro 
lejos

Yo, 
iré por mi lado, también. 

Fuera del hoyo negro
sostendré mi respiración hasta que nos volvamos a encontrar 

Negro es negro Negro es negro Negro es negro Negro es negro  Mi vestido blanco es negro

1, 
1, es si. 
On. 
Multicolor. 
Adelante.
Estas lejos. 
1, 
es un Yeah, 
Go!

Dos objetos 
/
en el espacio
/
una misma
/
órbita

dos sujetos
/
espacio. 
/

espacio. 

Rugido  Rojo
Llamo a aquel que gira en mi órbita. 
Llamas rojas
Otro cuerpo
1, 
encendido. 
Otro cuerpo
1, 
encendido. 
Rojo. 

Mi deseo rojo que arde. 

El ojo desnudo nos ve como uno.

Somos  dos cuerpos en el espacio 
1, cuerpos
danzan
se deslizan 
leeeeento 
/
arriba 
/
en la rama
/
serpiente. 
/
Se enroscan
/
1, 
y esa voz que dice 
1, 
'no hay otro camino' 

1,
Encendido
nuestros cuerpos
1, 
Hacia lo simple
Lejos del sueño
blanco.
1, 
no hay color
solo sabanas de algodón
Briza fresca 
/
Amor austero
/
pies  cálidos
/
abrigo
Real.
Real.
Real. 

({})

A valley
A garden
A vagina
A door.

A dream
A path.
A purpose
to explode.

Two hands (they are not yours)
One beat
in loop
There is no turning back , I am in with the light
pumping pressure, no rest, this is not a test
Release to take in - much deeper ,
One target, One focus. A valley, A garden, A vagina, A door. A vision
from before. No rest. Loop. Loop. Never the same, always on repeat. Loop.

I keep on taking deep breaths, and it is not that my heart aches, it is just pressure. And I don't know the way , so I can only go to sleep and hope to wake again. Exhale deep sighs all day long. Every day. I  know what I am here for.

A valley
A garden
A vagina
A door.

A dream
A path.
A purpose
to explode.

in awe she is love
and she has only known love
and all the bruises she's got  were made by and with love
and all she aims for is more.

I try to be clever and write about fuck
and try to mask it out as power play, but I know that facts are facts
and there is only one word
(it fills her up)

oh you little teeny whinny BIG BIG BIG (!)

un poema triste triste
que habla sobre un chico lindo
que se hace feo porque se niega a amar como es debido`
de una chica que se ve fea cuando se refleja en espejos rotos
una habitación que hace difícil que los cuerpos encajen
un poema lleno de silencios cargados
de proyectos inundados,
un poema triste

Julio 6, 2016

Tanta soledad 
de su boca salen flores 
que me llenan de espinas 
de la lengua enredaderas bendita soledad

marzo 31, 2012

On Time Travel

If I could go back in time and re-live everything I would go there, no questions asked. And I would change everything. Not because I dwell in regret. I really don't. My greatest treasure: my life experience. But because all those past endeavours, I already lived them and there is no point in stumbling with the same rock/ breeze/ light when you get the chance to meet and go deeper, after all, it is so vast the colour palette! I only want to be more. Still, to go back into a world of nostalgia, get the chance to see a sky you have already been acquainted, to go back there while having a much crisper sight and be able to see another side. What an interesting voyage that would be!

Oda a los necios

Cuando ya no quedan horas en el reloj
el trago ya es escaso y todos esos sentimientos,
ya fueron vividos o negados o vividos y negados o vividos tanto al punto
que el clímax hace rato ya se consumió

Cuando el color en las brochas ya se gasto
y te has concentrado tanto en las líneas que a tus ojos ya nada tiene forma.
Cuando la carne es trémula y el espíritu pide relamerse
Cuando ya no queda más que consultarselo a la almohada
o dejar asi, no mas,
que las cosas que han de morir mueran
y que las otras se queden como colgadas ahí en su fru-fru

Ese es el momento que reconozco a mis amigos
los que te dan de beber aun cuando ya no te queda hueso
los que ya de tan ciegos consiguen ver mucho más allá
los que cavan túneles a través de las piedras más concretas.

Los necios! Los necios!
Los necios son mis amigos! Pero es que no son tontos,
lo que pasa es que les sobran las ganas de ir un poco más allá
Son esos que saben que los fenómenos de encanto, esos se dan cuando ya nada queda

Que yo no estoy aquí para sentarme bonito y sobrar lo que me queda
del postre por que dicen que estas buena cuando te portas fina
Que yo me voy a relamer la cuchara y voy a raspar mi plato
y que si me quedan unas pocas monedas en la cartera pediré más!
Mas!
Mas!
Mas profundo!

The Wash

I am: a dark cloud
You are: a warm beam of light

why I yearn for you:
because a rag gotta be drenched in water
what you do to me: you wash me
and when you do: there is no shame
and so I: am able to believe

when you are gone:  I burn and I ache
now that is long over: I know
but you: fear your darkness so much
and I: can just give you permission to use the rag that I am

mi corazón palpita de modo caprichoso
me dice todo lo que quiere y yo ante la decisión, yo no se que busco.

Veo una mancha de tinta borrosa y permanente aparecer en cada disyuntiva
A veces es mi rostro el que reemplaza esta mancha, y eso me gusta
A veces es tu rostro,
el de un desahuciado viajero de semblante alegre
bonachón y pendejo, 
amable
Ahi te veo junto a tu nave erguida y flaman, bella
mas a la deriva,
en tu propia disyuntiva.
Y no se como darte la mano, por que coger la mano de otro entre estos cruces del destino y el libre albedrío, yo no sé, pero me da miedo que me la sueltes
o que vengas conmigo y en medio camino lo lamentes
pero es que mi corazón palpita fuerte y soy una caprichosa
y veo tu bote y veo tu rostro y escucho tu corazón palpitar en caprichosa crepitación
Eres tan dulce!
Asi que no voy a coger tu mano tan solo te voy a mirar directo
directo donde no hay mancha , solo hay ojos y mirada que desvaría por que esta en pleno baile 
y voy a caminar junto a ti
hasta que ya no haya como!
Hasta nunca! Hasta siempre! Hasta el próximo baile!

Dots, walls and whatever direction

Is it amusing? The lack of space - the , the, the, the, - the ever constant repetition of the baroque, of the 'hey, i am giving myself breaths to graze this ever consonant of sounds and movements and  - i am so confused i will trust this instinct, call it DNA, repetition of the same -. CLONE. Android of the 1,2, 3 Are you experienced?'
I wonder if I am.

I have been filling the same space of the same moment with the same person of no words, no gestures just space and time and WALLS this triggering walls that really talk loud! Walls that I know walls that I habitate walls that I share. walls. walls. walls. walls. This messed up walls of no security. Walls of you are so far away but for a moment I thought I could hear you and I thought we had touched like if we were dots forming a line. One sound.

I don't like crowds so I'd rather be a line made out of two dots, not more, just us two dots. but this walls and this other people and then my thoughts - and i guess your thoughts also have effect -  create even more walls. and it's like we were never forming a line, it is like we have never been close it is just that it seemed like we were. From one particular point of view. So I wish we could stay stuck in that point of view, in that place that makes us seem so close, like made out of the same sort of light. but i am here and in between this rather large number of walls there you are. and that is fine, I don't mean to be clingy but it is like time only puts up more walls and then I just think 'Why bother tearing them down?' So I just stay far and hope maybe to forget the sound.

So we were driving in your car, and all I want to do is drive in somebody else's car when it is pitch dark and just get out of town. Beams of traffic lights and a starry sky and I want to neglect the map and just get from point A to point, no, not to point B but I'd rather get to D and then circle back to A so that maybe we might figure out where B was. That is what I want form this physical world. but in my heart that is made out of soulspecks I want it always to be clear and straightforward and whatever string that may be attached I want it mentioned and scrutinized.
and I want you to call me on my phone even if I protest cause I hate phones. I want you to call.

Flawless Bitch is Colour

Didn't I tell you she was game? 

Bitch is flawless, I call her babe. 

and when my eyes meet her skin,

imma gonna tell you girl,

cause I'm of the sort that only knows grey

but there is a burst of colour and specks!

and I don't know if she is aware

about the smoothness in her speech. 

I can just see her flaunting freedom

as she moves that fat ass

and it hurts me to call her pretty

cause pretty is basic - small 

yet in the meeting of my senses and

all that cavorting,

in that space

I discover the bubbliness

of glitter confetti - piñata daze.

dont give a f$uck about whats tainted

I just have mind for what has tint.

A Guide Out Of Self Help and into Love

Don't be sad or self defeating, there is no such thing as 'not good enough'
fact is fact and you are allowed to be stubborn. Don't change your feelings.
So what if you are mopey and programmed to being love struck?
Does the lightning really harm you?

I find myself picturing a future composed of repetitions of the present. and guess what? You are not in it. You are not here. I could hold on to my stupid notions that are not mine. I want a house in which I can trap you. You know I did think of getting pregnant just so maybe I could have you. That isn't me. Those were just silly notions that flought into my head that really meant 'gee, he is slipping from my grips.' Why would I want to own you? That is not me.
I am loose.

I see stupid people around me, everyday. Prudes, fakers, them. And I am like them. Stupid people that need to talk their shit out loud because they can't listen to silence. I think I know what love is. I think I know what kind of love I want to give. I don't want to own you. Fuck that.
but there is this hole that needs constant affirmation- so I gotta tell myself.

I need to make this love worth my while. I think I know what love is. I think I know what kind of love I want to give. I believe in magic and affirmation and tracing invisible lines. I believe in all for nothing, in what the hell. I believe in hanging up just to make the call again (with a different message this time). I believe in grand gestures and not giving a fuck if they stare. Let them. Allow yourself to actually say what you want to say. and if maybe there is no one who can really listen, tell it to yourself.

I can be wild and authentic. I am no mistake just a work in progress. And if any asshole wants to pin me down for yesterday's actions/words, what a silly mother fucker. Guess what? You can't pin me to anything. I am Huayrapamushka. NatchaKee Tawara. Love is the only reason.  Don't stop. Embrace yourself for that is the only thing that is truly yours, but hey, Give Yourself Away! Paint it pink and black and shed a bloodstream. If you must bleed, bleed in kisses agreement. Love will become you and you will be the answer. And you will get there. So don't wait.

clothes and relationships

a mild fever
sprained ankle that takes f o r e v e r to cure
headache
I can't sleep.
Can't control my thoughts
my actions suck.
I want to rely on people.

It is common to lose clothes in the washer. Sometime in between taking of your clothes, picking it up from wherever you dropped it, getting it into the hamper, separating it by color and quality of fabric, washing it, drying it, maybe iron it (I rarely go through that hassle.), folding it, putting it back in the drawer/ dresser/ hanger, somewhere in between that long never ending process items get lost. sometimes they come back. you find them in obvious places. Sometimes it takes months maybe even years. Yes, really, years. But sometimes they are just lost. Forever.
And you never get to know how it happened.

Where did you go? And how come I keep losing you? And why I won't forget you once I realize you are lost. I keep on longing. For a different past, a nicer present, a perfect future. Keep on longing for a letter from you.

Why do we feel attachment to things? To people? Why am I so obsessed? How come every time I go to a store without money I feel like I want it all but when I get there with money and the desire to buy it suddenly becomes this impossible task? Nothing fits quite right. And when I finally find an item, and buy it, the excitement wears out after a few days and then I realize I decided all wrong. This shoes are not right. It's too late, can't return them now. I'm stuck in this shoes.

It takes forever to know someone you feel right with. It takes forever. Looking back in past relationships, when I was most excited was when I didn't have this people, rather I had the illusion of maybe sometime soon having this person. Because when I do love someone that loves me, I am bound to think less of them.

I have been acting like a brat for the most of my life. Reckless, ungrateful, entitled. My whole third grade year I kept losing my jackets at school. My mom stopped buying them for me so I'd learn to take care of them. I never searched for them. I would just lose them and leave-it-at-that. I still do the leave-it-at-that, why bother searching? Because, who wants to be this person that goes crazy mad and loses time for material things?

When I lose a person I do go mad. I think they know it. I communicate it. But, its not like a relationship can be searched for once it is lost. Screaming begging crazy doesn't help. You just have to say 'thank you, goodbye'. I wish to know if there is a way to find you and never lose you. and never feel like you must be worth a little if you think I am worth a lot.

I have way too many shoes and not one pair is perfect. I keep on going to the wrong stores. When I know how a right store looks like. I know what I like yet I don't go for it. and when it comes to people, it is like, I am doing it all wrong.

dias en veda

los días pasan , te(/me) digo que he cambiado, pero la verdad es que los días pasan y yo soy siempre igual. siempre ausente. nadie sabe que me acostumbre a no estar. no participar en sus juegos, en sus clases, en sus labores. los días pasan y yo aun en otro lado, siempre estoy acá.

me dijiste que era en mi donde debía proyectar toda mi fuerza, me dijiste que me transforme. te dije que yo ya era. los días y los estímulos y la fuerza pasan y me siento otra, mas fuerte, mas sabia, menos sonsa. pero eso no es real, la fuerza me atraviesa y soy/seré la misma siempre. mis hábitos cambian, mis pensamientos también, pero por dentro hay algo, que me obliga a no estar presente.

son muchas las veces en las que pienso antes de una vida - si es que algo debe cambiar - pienso que antes de buscarme una vida en la que este yo presente alimentándome/los, como hormiguita, antes, antes, primero pienso en ser institucionalizada, dejarme estar completamente no presente, cero, menos que cero, solo irme de una vez dentro de mi cabeza, aun si es una vulgar dirección.

me veía hormiga constructora, de mi propia empresa
y ese sera siempre mi disfraz,
todos tienen un blazer negro en su guardarropa, yo también.
Ni arrancándome el corazón te olvido,
de luz pasaste a ser otra herida
abierta.

yo no soy hormiga, aun si cada mañana me lo pido de rodillas
'muévete linda, ... '
y a pesar de los esfuerzos de mis maestros, tampoco soy grillo
mi canción no suena
y en silencio soy,
pendeja.

como chicle ando pegada al espacio de veda
gamucita negra y pelo sucio y destinturado
mancha en la pared soy
la ultima de la horda de 'las no deseadas'
me siento junto al publico
sin aplaudir,

y aun si le ruego a la noche y al big bang
no soy fuerza creadora
me limito al sueño
a mi cama
a construir castillos en el cielo
y el mas arrecho de todos, ese no me topa.


los días pasan
y ya me jode la herida que me hace tu imagen
lloro desde mi ventana
ni falta hace ser esterilizada
y, es que, nadie sabe que yo hago falta.

Dreaming. Done. When?

When dreaming is done, when dreaming is done
( ... ) dreaming. Done.
When dreaming is done I am still dreaming. There is always more.



Write whose name is composed of tender letters
lay it under the moon during a whole cycle
Kiss your hands and fingers, thinking of his letters
full moist lip. do it on a daily basis.
one letter, two letters, three letters, four letters, five,
six letters.
during that whole cycle.

Save his name in pink envelope
leave it under your pillow
lucid dreams of you making love to his letters
as they make love to you.
Dream for another full cycle.

Make up a chant and touch yourself
mimic the way you would touch him,
if he'd let you

I invest my love on the Power of Pink

Send me to my love and in return of his receiving

I pay in full form the letter 'I'. 

...

Nonesense! Nonesense! I make no sense!

When dreaming is done, when dreaming is done
( ... ) dreaming. Done.
When dreaming is done I still lay in my bed. Eyes open.
I cannot be sure of my eyes.
I cannot be sure of the 'I'.
And for hell I cannot trust this chants, this feelings, this dreams.
I cannot trust your love.
I cannot trust you denying me.
When will you take me?

When dreaming is done, when dreaming is done
( ... ) dreaming. Done.
When dreaming is - NOTHING IS DONE if it was dreaming.
if you sometimes mix up dreams and reality, then reality isn't done either!
When the deed is done, when the deed is done
When will you have me?

Fuck the moderns and they're modern love
Fuck individuality
Fuck passions
Fuck deciding between goals or other sort of goals
Fuck the type of feminism that dictates
>< I cannot    just think    of being    loved by you.><

I do. I do. I do!
I do. I do. I do!

I reject the I.

Help me erase my letters 

by making them something much sweeter. 

I reject the I.
I reject the eye.
I reject the dream.
Is this why you must reject me?