After my first abortion at eighteen, I fretted as to whether I'd be able to bear a child. So, I consulted a palm reader. She said, "Seven."

Graffiti Sacrifice is a gloomy poem. There're shadows under the city's bridge, and an unimaginable future. Yet, Music & Art bring HOPE.

Today, I find inspiration in the shape of a scar. I imagine that polka dots of blood can be read like musical notes spilling sounds.

Gale warning forecast by Mr. Jaco Pastorius--he is whirlpooling his rapid tornado, ripping the frets into splits and chunks of music.

Awareness opens our eyes to see, to gain access, and once we cross the threshold, we reach agency. And that is too, what brings awe.

Translation occurs in the immediacy of my bilingual mind. I'm a poet translating poetry, as poetry is written in its cathartic becoming.

I had thought that uncertainty and despair were the gradients of my life before I’d known about this flower growing inside me.