1. Letter to Leaving or Staying

    Dear heart, the rain dresses all
    in changeling colors: leaves that molt–
    part celadon, part yellow– then turn pewter
    where they drift on water and water reflects them
    back as shimmer. New leaves, parchment-thin:
    they’ve shaken off their flimsy tethers; and it’s not
    even the season for leaving. Everything is just
    beginning. Or beginning again. Every day,
    the air thickens with shadow, with shape, with
    odor. My hands bear the smells of mint, the stains
    of verbena. The skin on my back remembers
    when last it was touched. Sometimes I teach it
    to grow colder. Sometimes even the smallest
    flush of color reverses, like a wayward fever.

    ~ Luisa A. Igloria
    04 13 2011

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