Sin Fronteras Spring 2017 Sin Fronteras Spring 2017 | Page 36

The Return
Teresa Lee
I am afraid that I am losing myself
On the sidewalk,
As I leave footprints of meteorite dust
On the hot, metal bench outside the ice cream parlor
Along with drips of sweetness that dry alongside the
Ghostly shape of my bare thighs
On the bedsheets I have slept on
Strands of hair now clinging to skin-scented cotton
In my mother’s wooden treasure trove,
The ivory colored baby teeth
Yellowing to nothingness
In the shower,
As I watch through water-logged eyes
My essence collect at the edge of the drain
Along with opalescent bubbles
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Among the countless paper cups
With the creases of my lips
Marked for eternity,
Only to be thrown away
Like careless kisses.
I imagine these pieces
Floating like tiny specks of dust
In the air,
The sunlight carrying them
In her bosom
To remote places.
When I finally find these fragments,
I would like to ask them,
“Where have
you been?
Let’s
go
together.”
By Sofía Ramos
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