creative writing
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When two mirror souls face each other a tunnel for growth occurs
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Sometimes home is the sound of laughter dinner time or a heart beat.
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era Magia desde el centro de su Ser
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Her body needed to twist away the tension bend it’s back to open the chest to flow in Sync with breathe to the now.
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To my fellow teachers Reading rosters with names that don’t roll off the tongue the names that require extra thought extra effort and the respect to be pronounced correctly there’s always an Appreciation for the attempts And there’s always a story mine is of a soap opera a Gypsy in love with a naval officer…
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Walking Blindfolded with a red scarf on a tight rope Senses electrified Core strong Feet fulfilled with faith
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Encoded in our DNA the spirit of our ancestors Fly with us Every day.
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A couple balancing on each other as the subway moves Eyes locked Hers searching His sure and smiling
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Smooth Jazz Sunday afternoon easy like black leather couches flowing like two lovers on a dance floor Jazz sounds that smell like mahogany.
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Sitting with navy blue bleach stained sweatpants La Virgencita dangling from her young neck Golden hoops and a messy bun of black hair, reaching inside an Andean woven handbag for Jon Krakauer ‘s Missoula Earmarked page 29 Reading, radiating power.
Yesenia Guerra 