The Andes mountains

are etched in my bones

the carvings tingled

as I walked among them.

They sang

an ancestral song

and my heart

knew her words.

When I laid on the grass

in Machu Picchu

listening to the ground

it whispered

revealing my past life.

the majestic silhouette


whenever my eyelids



Morning coffee cup

from Peruvian beans

tasting my motherland

reminiscing a journey

that set my spirit



I wish I could
be seen

Maybe it’d be easier
to see the complexities

you would see
how much
I’m covered
in cobwebs
commonly known
as anxiety.

I have scars
and out
You’d see
jagged wounds
that never properly
The outside is scarred
by neurosis,
I compulsively
at anything
that doesn’t belong.
I scratch off scabs
I hate
the way they feel
and look,
I pick
searching for new skin
to be seen.

I force myself
to embrace
my bare face
my version
of aversion therapy.
Last week
I wore my armor,
make up
But when I glazed
in the mirror
I didn’t recognize myself

I love my ninja turtle shirt
just as much as my maxi dress
love flip flops
just as much as stilettos
Neither defines me.

My imperfections
are magnified
in my eyes

and it’s always relative
you never appreciate
the present enough
till it’s the future

If I’m inside
you’ll see my fat
just hanging
in all it’s flabby
not hidden
under black clothing
forgiving fabrics.

If only you’d see me
my muscle tendons
stringy like red yarn
instead of my
involuntary vanilla complexion,
my genes decided to arbitrarily
adhere to European
standards of beauty
without my permission
I’ve heard confessions
admiring my Casper complexion
“Todo te queda bien con tu piel”
Everything looks good with your
skin tone
admissions of colonized mentalities
“You don’t look Peruvian”
as if they had seen
all the millions of us
because when I walked around
in Lima
I saw a bunch of my clones,
my Peruvian people recognized
me as their own.
“You’re too pretty to be Peruvian”
Instantly degrading
devaluing Indigenous
and African beauty
which is my real make up
I’m sure my bones
have etched on them
the entire Andes mountain
and my heart
beats to the rhythm of el cajon.

I wish you could see me
as I see you
all it takes
is a look of the eyes
The cliche holds true
The glaze of envy
that for your own sake
I hope is temporary
the narrow minded
the angry glint
of ignorance
I’m comforted when I meet
and general goodness.

I wish I was inside out
see my soul
the color it is
I’ve always been fond of pink
maybe the soul is the aura
of the heart

That’s the part of me
I really wish you could see
how vulnerable
and sensitive
it beats.

Amazonian symphony

Rhythms of the rainforest
Birds chirp along
The frogs chime in
Then crickets
For 1,2,3,4
Then rest for 8
Stinky bird
Squaking and quacking
Hooting for beats
Of three
The animals
Are welcoming me
Nature’s nightlife

Colca kismet

Andes construct
The landscape
Of my dreams.
Imprinted in my
Soul’s memory
Carvings on
The stone of destiny
Markings of an
Everlasting journey.

Spirit awoken
From slumber
Released from
The cacophony
Of a disassociated self.

Clarity of consciousness
Painted on clear skies
And the
Crescent moon Nearby.

Hundreds of
rock offerings
Lead to
Magisterial mountains
Recounting the
Spinning of the
Threads of
The map inside our



La ñusta me despertó
Suspiro eres
hija del sol.
Regresa a tu hogar
Cerca al rio
que se deriva al mar.
Regresa a tu templo
que admira el sol
Protegida de todo mal.
Las montañas y nubes
se besan
Testigos del matrimonio
de la luna y sol.
Duerme al compass
de los pájaros.
Las flores te guían
Aun es temprano
el sol no ha
los espejos
miras al sol
y miras a ti
Eres esposa del Inca
Regresa a tu trono
Regresa a tu reino.

Machu Picchu

Riding on the wings
of a condor
I returned home
to lush green
to this mountain retreat
I surrender.
The sundial marking the time
Inti showing only
a reflection on the Earth
Practicing the same ritual
of being a priestess
since birth.
Fortress of agricultural riches
Rainbow present at the marriage
of the moon and sun
Stars aligned
as the calendar predicted.
The birds sing the chorus
while the Urumbamba river
keeps the beat
Chewing on the coca
Pachamama’s blessing
cloudy mountain mist
the perfect backdrop.
Overseeing the ceremony
for them to be wed
Inca adorned in royalty red
Puma at his feet
protecting the ruler’s seat
Snake rising above the ground
The Andean cross trinity
The sun and moon
united for infinity
Machu Picchu
the remnant of a
civilization’s divinity.



The Andes sing a song
by thousands of years
of harmonizing
The Colca River composer
Thousands of parts
combined to form one.
Blue sky audience
as the mountain
tries to reach it.
It plays in a cycle
llamas feed
humans eat
then both
nurture the Earth.
Lesson on how to
weather a storm
color melody
it’s lyrics spell
a symphony of strength.


I dreamed of

Machu Picchu

the voices of

my ancestors

calling to my soul

evoking past life


Royalty, daughter

of the sky

standing by

mama ocllo’s side.

Constructed our

masterpieces in


Regal and adorned

in gold. Our empire

vast and wide

We lived on top

of the mountains

civilization on the rise

Inti nuturing

the land

cultivated to feed





no hunger

observing the cosmos

masters in astrology.

Protective mist, shield

against the ignorance

and the weapons

they would wield.

green serenity

time escapes in

temple of the sun

Inca’s sanctuary

for fun.




If they never came

Quechua would

fountain flow

from our mouths

but history weighs,

colossal structure

now slowly

descending back

to Earth.

When this life

cycle ends, send

my ashes back

My spirit knows

the way.

Lily Peruana

Flower war

my name for

those who can’t

speak Español


Peruana roots

developed in

American ground

Spanglish is my sound


Bonita flor growing

under Inti sol

one taste of mi amor

Leaves to crave more


Delicate y calmada

Until mistreated then

You can drown

In Mar Brava


Only truths to be told

Lily’s fragrance can’t be

ignored.  I’ve battled

to become quien Soy.



Una poeta flor

Living unafraid

Writing realities

to cause waves.




Peruvian Lily

Flower war

my name for

those who can’t

speak Español


Peruvian roots

developed in

American ground

Spanglish is my sound


Pretty flower growing

under Inti sun

one taste of my love

Leaves to crave more


Delicate y calm

Until mistreated then

You can drown

In Mar Brava**


Only truths to be told

Lily’s fragrance can’t be

ignored.  I’ve battled

to become who I am.



A flower poet

Living unafraid

Writing realities

to cause waves.



** Beach in Peru with rough currents