When I Asked My Best Friend How to Say “Wrist” in Spanish
I know it’s muñeca.
that it’s the same word for doll,
porcelain or plastic.
but when I open my mouth
pieces of a broken face fall out;
clinking-crashing noises
hitting unsteady ground.
so I cave in
to the mercy
of my friend who says
the word my mind couldn’t
find a place for anymore:
a discontinued figurine long forgotten.
I wonder
if memory would do the same
to words like
amor
canción
estrellas
huesos.
If I lose these
I will be at a loss
for breath. My lungs
will collapse
like flamenco figures made of clay,
turned over to flames after being
shattered or neglected.
Lidabel A. Avila is a senior English (creative writing) major at SUNY Geneseo with previous publications in the college’s MiNT Magazine, Iris Magazine, and Gandy Dancer. She mostly works on poetry connected to her Afro-Caribbean background, challenges with mental health and identity, and relationships with herself and others. However, she also indulges in speculative fiction writing. When not writing, Lidabel can be found practicing new drawing styles or deep-diving on the internet about scientific theories.