Sun dried locks and denim skin, robust and cheeky,grinning. Gravel
in his mouth, a heat of graven mercury; eclipsed heart, defective and maleficent. Mothers bruising
lineage carrying its way with my sand dollars and silver linings, into today with blood-sucking leeches zip-locked and asphyxiated.
Even though the wounds belonged to her, I too collected the marbles passed down to me.
No more. A leakage in the cracks of my history, I swallowed it whole and vomited it back to where the sun don’t shine. To where it
can’t. And for once, there was peace and quiet within the liberation of my unfettered wings. I’ve grown
eagle-eyed to this awareness. Sun dried locks and graven mercury, no longer bleed from me.
About the Creator
Natasha Collazo
Selected Writer in Residency, Champagne France ---2026
The Diary of an emo Latina OUT NOW
https://a.co/d/0jYT7RR
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