Born and raised most of my childhood in the Mexican border town of Matamoros, Tamaulipas. Have been writing poetry most of my life for some still-undiscovered reason.
I know, I am stretching the number-titled blogs conceit a bit thin... but hear me out. I posted two similar poems about two very different women, so, four objects to talk about!
Yeah, well.
These two are portraits. I am surprised how few of those I wrote on my way to completing the 64. You'd think that would be an easy task to assign myself, but they do require a distictive personality about whom to write. Maybe there just aren't that many of them to go around. One of my subjects followed me in Facebook where I was posting my daily poems. She actually recognized herself in it, walked right up to me, and asked me if it was written about herself. I panicked and said no. She insisted. So did I. So, she walked away probably embarrased. She still remained friendly though. I even let her borrow my copy of The Master and Margarita (she hated it). The other woman (keep on wanting to say girl) is, well, someone I never met in person. We had a long distance relationship. The fever almost convinced me to get on a plane for the weekend. These last 10 years of my life would have turned out very differently if I had.
