because, in a video of one of them exploding into pieces in the middle of a desert that I watched on my cell phone in..
When did you leave? What did you do while you waited generations to return? Did you hear me when I tried to convert you to..
¿Cuándo te fuiste? ¿Qué hiciste mientras esperabas generaciones para volver? ¿Me escuchaste cuando intenté convertirte en una “i” en sexto grado? ¿Cuando quise convertirte en..
The love song hits differently. When you hear the words, “love songs,” “corridos,” “cumbias,” “boleros” … what do you think of? How do you feel?..
A collection of love letters to my past, present and future selves. To the reader: This piece may not be for everyone but for those..
Ever so often you look at me Furrow your brow and whisper Where did you come from Tell me Where did you come from ..
When I hold my phone all night, I don’t feel like Lorca. I do, however, hear audio messages of your laughter. I think Lorca..
Cuando sostengo mi celular en la mano toda la noche, no me siento como Lorca pero sí oigo audios de tu risa. Creo que..
As I reflect on my parents’ “love story,” I’m reminded of the cyclical feelings when it comes to love. When I recall kissing my girlfriend..
Reflexionar sobre la “historia de amor” de mis padres me recuerda los sentimientos cíclicos del amor. Cuando rememoro besar a mi novia en el coche..
