Mai Santillan
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Dance
I’ve always envied those brave soulswho find the courage to dancewith anybody, to any song, or any beat. But I am not like them. There are certain songs I only dance to and not well enough, really.I look like a marionette flailing my arms in the airAnd sidestepping and hopping To the tune of Eraserheads.
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To Mother
The poet dedicates this to her own mother, Lea Belen Santillan. The first poem she has ever written for her. Under the tangerine sky I frantically wore my yellow tsinelas from an afternoon of bato lata and Slipper X I dusted myself offand waved farewellto my playmatesas their motherswiped sweat off their faceswith Good Morning towels I wonderwhy Mother never fetched…