Page 81 of Wishing for La Luna
I put my mark on you.
Etched and sketched on your skin
Drew imagenes de placer
Y luego les dí vida con mi pincel.
Eres la santa en mi escapulario
Y me he convertido en tu mas fiel devoto.
I worship at the altar
Of your face, your mouth, your nalgas, tu toto.
But you’re more
You’re the storm and the storm master
A word from your mouth calms the waters
A look from your eyes makes my body rage again.
Me muero de miedo
No se que vas a hacer conmigo
Nunca te conviertas en cruel
And leave me without sin tu Abrigo.
Encontrarte no ha sido facil, Mami.
Y me asusta pensar que no te pueda tener.
Pero eres mia
No te suelto sin pelea.
You know who it is.
Still waters run deep
Rio.
I stare at my words, contemplating as I always do when I write, andshit, I got a lot of feelings.
The rap at the door is soft and barely there. I close the notepad and place it on the coffee table next to the flowers, then rush to the door so whoever it is doesn’t knock again and wake Luna up. I open the door to Tito.
My cousin stands under the rain with a tray of food in his hand. “Mamisent this. She wanted me to get you, but I told her you’re probably staying here.
I nod, ignoring the knowing smile lingering in the corner of his mouth.
“¿Y Luna?”
“Sleeping. Hold on.” I take the food and place it on the table, then step out, closing the door behind me. “Where’s Sel?”
“With my moms.”
