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It Was Really Just Me There

Paula Gil-Ordoñez Gomez

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i pretended floating above outer edges of the dream forest

is this utopia? what infinity looks like?

it was really just me there playing piano with the first lightening bugs of the season

watching over hermit crabs & sun dried tulips

engulfed in water-colored noises till

the snow coming down & the snow coming down & i’m coming down

clouded silence was the deal

lording over me cruising only in subconscious i ran

away from home like that once escaping from something i could not understand

i woke up so hot & depressed halting visitations & conversations

with a memory i didn’t want

to know more

the mask was so heavy & the mask was so heavy & the mask was so heavy & the mask was so heavy

my heart

doesn’t appreciate when still asks for me

or hearing his name volleyed in conversation he wasn’t an Angry Man kept it clean

enough made me feel loved & useful

but being with him was like driving through a dirt road

middle of nowhere telling truths to the wolves

there is no right way to take out the trash

the watering saved me i rolled over on my side into ocean

& evolved in solidarity with mother earth

i am seagull little kid anarchy outpouring heart to the lonely those feelings i've had

my whole life churning a future of morning light azure waves lapping

up my feet raw abundance & laughter sometimes i’m haunted

with dilapidation

the mask is still heavy i didn’t forget

how to love it’s the resilience of survivors

ancient as their ancestors we are blooming

in our basements tilting towards occluded sun

PAULA GIL-ORDOÑEZ GOMEZ is a Mexican-Spanish-American poet residing in New York City. She works in narrative strategy at a social impact agency, and as Social Media & Membership Manager for Brooklyn Poets. Her writing has been published in Defunkt Magazine, Wax Nine, and Fahmidan Journal. Paula tweets @paulagilordonez. Find more of her work at

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