I Am

I am the beans cociendo en la hoya,

I am the freshly mopped floor,

I am the lingering scent of the laundry detergent

after every load.

I am the soft quilt slipping through your fingertips

as you smooth out the rough edges.

The incense burning every room,

the lightly scraping of the broom on the floor.

I am the sound of the door slamming shut,

the little jump your body makes as a reaction,

the apron in which you wipe away the moistness of your palms.

His presence makes you nervous.

I reek of his cologne, a scent you grown accustomed to.

Maybe that’s the reason you burn incense in every room,

You want to burn away the scent of the man you thought you loved,

You want to burn away the pain he leaves behind.

I am the sense of pride you feel when he sweeps you off your feet,

saying, “algo huele bueno.”

I am the approval you want from him.

The approval you need from him.

I am the voice in your head that helped replace the words

“Unhealthy” with “compromise,” “fear” with “love.”

The fear that shook your body the night

you spoke up about how tired you felt.

Why were you afraid? I’ll tell you why.

Because your pain and suffering will never be as bad as his.

Your feelings will forever be inferior to his.

You will always be inferior to him.

I am the split second when time seemed to freeze,

the split second before his hand collided with your face.

I am the raw emotion with which you gave yourself to him that night.

Because no matter how many times you said no,

he still had his way with you

and you still loved him.