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Board Administrator Username: mjm
Post Number: 3354 Registered: 11-1998
| Posted on Saturday, July 09, 2005 - 7:16 pm: |
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Honorable Mention Havana Song Laurie Byro While the canvas dries from that day’s hour, we glide across the floor. El carino que te tengo Yo no lo puedo negar After he carefully soaks his brushes in their jars, and removes the stab of turpentine from his skin; he slices up a ripe mango for our afternoon rest. Se me sale la babita Yo no puedo evitar The pulpy fruit runs down my fingers. It passes my wrists, into the hollows of my arms. I suck each finger— enjoying the moment when his eyes widen, when he sees me differently. He holds out his hand, in a courtly gesture. Mine small and sticky, grasps his. I take my first steps, toddling into grace. A beat-up radio plays. We sip the syrupy music. Tonight, there will be wily stars. Men will sit on benches and fill the park air with big talk and the chocolate smell of rich cigars. He will finish what he’s started. He will suck the dried juice of mango off the whorls of hairs on my belly. I will shudder like the room when the train comes through. While the ocean laps our island country, he will dissolve me into buttery ochre; fuchsia flames will stain the night. The lines in Spanish come from a song by Francisco Repilado. They translate: The love I have for you I cannot deny My mouth is watering I just can’t help myself.
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