Laia Sales Merino

Vots de casament


I hear a woman

yell but she’s a bitch! She’s

a bitch. I sit on the red sofas


of the Monarch bar,

again, a beer. La más

barata, por favor.

Brindo por mis tías. Many


alcohólicos en mi familia,

mi amor. El centro de noche,

when the border has

arcadas of night,

is my home. And I will


be ruined. La ruina és

una casa de veritats.

I told you bear in heart

I live for la poesía. Sola.


Que I can see grietas

in this bar and in this

cielo! Escupo a les esquerdes


amb molt d’amor. Aprèn

català sisplau. Sisplau.

Sisplau, amor meu, si


te haces policía, divorcio. I saw

ice on the street and I stared

at the opal you gave me. (Tengo


manos muy pequeñas. Mi vida,

me va grande el anillo.)


Quiero bailar. My mother said

she could tell que tu ets

molt bona persona. Sí

me reí mucho. Pero


te amo.


You asked my mother why

she and I can’t sleep

cuando la luna está llena

de muertas. She said

es que somos un poco brujas.


I’ll ask your mother her recipe

for sopa azteca, someday. Corazón,


entre más piensas

más te haces vieja. Corazón,


eres poeta. Escribe, you said

when I told you about the rapes.

Cuando le conté a mi madre,

she said:


a mi també,


and spoke with

generations of screams

en su boca. If I gave birth,

our children, maybe

tendrían gritos en la sangre. Si diera


a luz, our children tendrían

la risa de mi abuela

in their voices, your desert

in their sighs, las palmas

que suenan en todos

nuestros corazones. Y olé


las velas que prenden toda

tu piel. Los jaguares

que juegan y matan

en tus ojos. Tu altar.

Los búhos pequeñitos

que pisan tus labios. Bailo


dentro del anillo que me diste.


Because El Paso is almost

as cold as my valley. Porque

esta ciudad está casi tan

ebria como mi pueblo. Tengo

tus ojos pegados

entre mis costillas. Bonic,


since the day we drank

in The Tap, and we didn’t stop

fucking as if we wanted to open

todos los cortes. Ven. Mira,


le clavé tres navajas a la luna

para que se ponga bien roja. Ven,


mira, ayer perdí el anillo y ahora

lo encuentro en mi boca. Yesterday I

asked my mom for my birth certificate. Que


now I lose a ring, and now

I find it tattooed on my skin. Come


dance, mi muerte, estoy

borracha, en tu pecho, bailando,

agarro el vidrio que brilla

con mezcal, y brindo y que yo


y que tú, y que la camarera dice

que nos puede casar

right now, en esta barra

de malamuerte, que I hear

the women in my family

breathe in, and that I


and that you come sisplau sisplau

sisplau to this bar ara mateix que

la lluna goteja ruïna que l’ànima

em crema que my heart is

on my hands, and inside, vermell:


el teu anell.



 

Laia Sales Merino (she/her) is a writer from the Catalan Pyrenees currently based in Barcelona. She writes and translates between her three languages: Catalan, Spanish, and English. Her work can be found in amberflora, Ambit, harana poetry, and Variant Literature among others. She is the assistant editor of Anthropocene.




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