I’m not usually a writer of poetry, so I’m not sure if I would even consider the following to be a poem. I feel more comfortable labeling it as a type of written sentiment to a place and to a collection of lived experiences that have changed my personal perception of love and the world.
A little backstory because I haven’t posted on here in months (oops): The past five months have been a blur! Three were spent solo in Spain as an Au Pair (which I should write about at some point), and the last two I’ve been reunited with the fam-bam traveling around America. Honestly, we didn’t choose to come back to the states as much as we had to. My parents accepted teaching jobs and are moving to Spain in the fall! It’s a very exciting life change, with the tiny catch that we’ve had to come back to the States to go to the Spanish consulate and apply for visas in Los Angeles in person. It’s been a very wild yet productive American road trip!
In other news, the end of year one at uni has left me with excess free time, so I’ve decided to start a series of passion projects to fend off boredom. Creative writing used to be a passion of mine. When I was much younger I would write stories and fan-fiction and all that good stuff, but since the age of 11 or 12 I really haven’t. I’m not really sure what changed, I suppose I just didn’t have the time or motivation anymore. So my summer passion project is to creative write as much as possible. I’ve started a few little short stories, a bigger project to document my whole childhood in journal form, and now I’m giving free verse a shot. We’ll see what happens. Enjoy my messiness! I’m just starting out here and honestly, don’t know what I’m doing. This piece I wrote up at 12 pm one night in a notebook and edited a few days later lol.
Depending on your interpretation it could be read in many ways. Once, as a personal account of my own romantic rendezvous at different moments in time with different people. Or read again, it might be interpreted much more literally as an image of personified Spain. Written in Spanglish, because although Spain (past) gave me some of my favorite memories and Spain (future) will become my permanent home, I am still a mix of cultures and languages unable to truly claim a single identity. What I love about poetry though is that only I get to truly know the meaning of what I write. There’s something mysterious and exciting about that which I am starting to like a lot ;).
Sueños de España
yo sueño de mornings spent drunk on cafe con leche.
soaking in those hours of early golden sunlight like sugar into the milky foam of my cup.
el tiempo pasa slower here.
we amble through orange orchards, inhaling oxygen infused with spring blossoms. the smell of ripe fruit clings to the cotton cloth of our t-shirts.
yo sueño de sangria stained lips like smudged red lipstick.
on the weekends we dance to songs you sing so well, songs that i can only hum along to. our hips, our hair, swaying together in time to the discotech beats.
hot, heavy steps compelling my heart to beat harder to match the tempo.
todavía mi español isn’t good enough to put words to how i feel, but yours is.
me encanta la forma en que dices me nombre
s’s smooth and lingering in your mouth. You are all the senses all at once.
como una niña pequeña i learn what it means to see, to hear, and to feel for the second time.
sueño que algún dia i’ll come close to speaking this language as beautifully as you.
for now my s’s and r’s are dipped in foreignness.
but i, however, am dipped in spanish sea.
baptised in the cool embrace of mediterranean memories, my adopted nation, and my new life.
Published 28.6.18 from Boulder, Colorado, USA