A love letter to our arranged marriage, that we unknowingly arranged…
…my love for you was born in this city
…in this city, is where I love you
…where I will continue to love you
…until some other city, becomes the concrete beneath our boots
…I want six decades on our lips
…I want tattered hands
...tumid hips
...our love to last
...our teeth to stain
...our sun to burn
...our moon to stay
...I want our shadows to meld
...our sorrows to whimper
...our doubts to ebb
...our summers to taunt
...our winters to bite
...our limbs to cloak
...I want the red flicker of our bloodied tongues to give of themselves
...a baptism of Angels on our ankles
...lifelines on our torsos, a path to warm attacks
...a searing end
...to the wild of us
Ingrid Calderon-Collins is a Salvadoran poet & refugee residing in Los Angeles. She's published in OCCULUM, Electric Cereal, Dryland, Seafom Mag, Memoirmixtapes, Punch Drunk Press, Moonchild Magazine, Anti-Heroin Chic, Bad Pony Mag, L'Éphémère Review amongst others etc... Guilty of four full-length poetry books entitled 'Things Outside', 'Wayward' & 'Zenith' & 'Ablution.' She invites you to stalk her on Twitter @BrujaLamatepec and read her rants at notesofadirtyyoungwoman.com