By Camincha
We are a voice that screams,
tearing the silence of conformity.
We are a voice that screams,
revealing our talents: contributions
to progress, peace, innovation, solidarity.
Like a magenta flower, an aphrodisiac,
we seduce with ideas, the perfume
wrapping you in bright elixir, in swaying
opinions with a maddening scent.
We are a voice that screams
memories brought with our luggage
from other lands: flower petals hidden
between pages of a book. Letters
turned into dried-up-ink-flakes on worn
out paper. Broken doll, childhood
companion. Mother’s watch with worn
out silk band. Father’s moment of glory
in faded yellowed photo. Veil and
ribbons of most Sacred Day of her
First Holy Communion. Prayer book
with blessed stamps of Guardian Angel
wings spread out protecting little girl.
We are a voice that screams,
revealing our talents: contributions
to progress, peace, innovation, solidarity,
We are a voice that screams,
tearing the silence of conformity.
Camincha is a pseudonym for a California-based writer who was born in Peru. Her work can be seen on her website at caminchabenvenutto.com.
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