I own this moment
No deceiving man
No fidget tinkering around my legs
No monsters from the past.
At La Palabra
The voices rise softly
Between drinks and tacos
Celebrating the work of
Inspiring women.
Two new books are born.
At La Monarca Bakery on 59
The smell of sugar and butter
Caress my cheeks,
With butterfly kisses.
It tickles my nose
And slides down my face
With intoxicating sweetness.
I bite in the soft creamy texture
Feel it melting in my lips
Waking the taste buds of my tongue
That licks the soft viscosity of butterscotch.
The book waits
Next to a pink highlighter and a pencil.
With the precision of a scalpel,
They will mark the typos and formatting mistakes,
The last of the edits needed
Before my book is born.
Coffee meets tongue
Pencil meets typo
Pause
Chocolate cake meets taste bud
Highlighter adds a space
Pause
The bakery lights catch the eye
Pencil finds repeated word
Pause
So goes my Sunday afternoon
Coffee, cake, words, solitude.
My space
My time.
