I didn’t imagine it, did I? A Ganges, an eye of the storm. For a little. When we forgot ourselves, you tugged me, I leapt inside you and split you like an apple. Opened for the other to look and not give back. Something wrenched itself loose. Your body doesn’t lie. It’s not silent like you.
You’re nude as a pearl. You’ve lost your train of smoke. You’re tender as rain. If I’d put you in my mouth you’d dissolve like snow.
You were ashamed to be so naked. Pulled back. But I saw you for what you are, when you opened yourself for me. When you were careless and let yourself through. I caught that catch of the breath. I’m not crazy.
- Sandra Cisneros, “Never Marry A Mexican”, Woman Hollering Creek and Other Stories