i. el coco
without shape,
i take a child. cloak myself in
the shadow of a room. look through
an iron pan with holes. façade for a face,
a candle wick burning behind it. i want to
tend to a thing, watch it grow, & hear it say
i love you back. run my hand along
my child’s soft cheek. a caress. wipe the tears from
their eyes. tell my child te quiero,
kiss their forehead, & take
them away.
ii. chupacabra
i undress
the warmth
in the body
draw all
the red out
of flesh &
am called
an abomination
in moonlight
i watch
tended herds
i christen
each creature’s
tender neck
before breaking
the body gone
slack i empty
its veins
i bless it
with smoke i utter
a prayer oh lord
spare me
for taking a life
to preserve
my own
iii. la llorona
& see what i would do for love? submerge
the likeness of us until it no longer breathes.
devote myself to my own drowning. let my hair
become a trail of smoke underneath the water.
cry out beside a river until it is a lullaby. the river-
bed a cradle i lower all of the children into.