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:: Portuguesa ::
I always wanted
to wade
mid-Atlantic with you
under sun’s umbrella
living
how you once lived
in hedgerows of blue hydrangeas
vino verde on your lip
until you
got caught within this crooked hull
doença machado joseph
ablaze in afterlife
came as ash to ocean
washing in wave
reaching for your
moment
on land
:: Bisavó e Você ::
my Bisavó had blonde hair
blue eyes too
a colonial Portugal bore her soul
a fair that marked her
whore
hair she dyed to black
to escape those who knew
her bed, her creation of you
now a photograph
waiting
watching to take you too
did you see
I didn’t learn
anything
I already knew
all I could say was you
vocês
you
what waited
at the end
and you watching
did you see
I couldn’t say
your name
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