Days like these
We worship it,
Not for its perfection,
But for all the moments we wish we could have taken back.
For all the words we should have inhaled instead of spewed.
Days like these
We sit on our thrones alone
Because power comes at a mighty lonely price.
We practice our goodness but never quite get to genuine.
It’s days like these that remind us where we are.
Who has come before us
And how we will pave the way for the others.
Days that are long,
But worth every hustling minute.
We will remember the glory of these days
Not for its perfection
But for its purity.
Collect my love puddles and recycle them back to me
Puddles from the sweat behind my knees, praying you and I will be.
Clutch the emerald rosary
between our fangs.
And that’s how it’s supposed to be.
Sink them deep, my crimson cabernet is yours to keep
Slackline on the silverlining to the highest star
Bring me back to my body
The keeper of my puddles, my crimson, my heart.
-Words by Jasmine Duran and Luiz Castro
Build a legacy.
For the women who created this body deserve recognition
The women who rendered this mind deserve rights.
They created art. They created a dream.
I saw you crying once.
Outside of the bedroom late at night.
We had washed up after a party and dragged in the same old, bitter fight.
Who was I to you? Why couldn’t you show?
So here we are:
You on the livingroom floor.
Me, peering through a crack in the bedroom I wished wasn’t ours. A hallway of mirrors fall between us and we cannot reach each other through our own reflection.
We would only see ourselves.
You belittle me with such delightful song.
I missed a spot
I laughed a lot
Judged upon the life I made
Blamed for all the steps I take
How dare I live a happy way
Fickle fears on your ear drum
Reappear with the shore
Unmistakably echoing in your head
From the last time you placed the shell
On your temple
And begged to be answered.
Paper airplanes of pleasantries
Coast along the morning breeze
Creating desire lines they tease
Thoughts of you and me.
So be the light that breaks my darkest pain.
And birth a flame where the sunlight is made
O’r beyond the borders of a mountain range.
Turn by turn drift away with grace only somedays.
Today I had a moment. So excuse me, but I had a moment. A moment to breathe. To shake off all the worry. To submit myself to the universe and it’s energy.
I had a moment between the shifts of a few papers. I had my moment eating lunch. I walked outside and took a breath and finally felt something. I broke free of the smiling depression and simply smiled to the sky.
I had my moment for an eternity of heartbeats and a sisterhood speech. I howled. I whispered. I sat quiet on a bench. I walked a line so close to freedom and wobbled toward what might be next.
I had a moment to release the anx and leave this physical realm. Diving deeper in the midst of roots that were trying to tie me down. I swam in the mud of the noise. I drank all the cars on the road. I imagined myself a giant. Then a toad. Then a friend. Then a ghost.
I had my moment in the mirror when I wiped off all the tears. It revealed a face much deeper that I’d never noticed there. My moment revealed happiness and heartbreak and pain and the potlucks of many colorful lives I had made.