TORIA N. BAEZ

Slotted

dipping our eyelids in one another's goop we felt so playful.

kissing chins, eyelashes comingling we felt the rhythmic jelly from our sound booths bounce, so playful.

circles dotting
moving around one another like magnets until they change from opposing into one another and the pupils lengthen outward and the eyes become and an eye and the chuckles that shook the jelly and bounced us and our freckles and our loosened joints just stopped.

like an underpass our eye unit was transported below us, above us, into tunnels everywhere is us the reality that i would see the you unit in my night once the eye became eyes and the lids shut over them I would see the you unit so clearly so dark that I would awake the next day never knowing the lid closed nor that you were on top of me. that i had lost an eye and that pureness we associate with
lost an eye and that perkiness we associate with lost an eye
that i had lost an eye as it was no longer mine but ours and that commingling unsettled me so much i wished i could sever my own sight.

tinting my sight
leaving me lost in a rural playfield of drunken teens.
sickened to now call this home.

An early dinner

it sat and watched

at the rim         and        at the echoed          at the trim tip
it watched                       us

and discussed us           watching.

mother chirped like a slither in through
and out of
but

the tongued weighed it down.
pressed the chatter of shards, of villainous shards into a lilac
and it spread into a little lily

morph
ed beauty      
from a         
morphed       
mother.        

All the  
while its       
origin is a      
rusted tongue   
stamp         
Weight
ing down like 
some        
dominant.  
masculine on
the table.   
Our
dinner table.

my teacher tells me

________________

internalized as

to put it another way

             I am forever showjumping on the outskirts of the track creating my own semi spheres
stopping just about the elliptical just before it ellipsis

             Bout the moment it becomes
                            leaping to point                        to the point of the sphere and I am above the track
looking down on the patch of synthetic ground for which my heals have been turned flat and
forbidden from

my feet have films around the entirety of its base like one flat winged plate
I am hovering over other world. The other world. I'm the interior. the image the nonexistent.

And in the real the ball is being passed and the spine and others are gently folding on the soil
unaware that they are lying on the undecayed

Held in a suspension that this "grass" won't age

But I hover with my new feet

why can't we graduate
we        this mass           now a mass         a grouping          many boarder houses or conceptions of
virginity are encasing the real and acting as the image in the un

yet this is we and
                                                       the i of the group is yanked down
                                                       and rumbled through and past the soil
                                                       down to the fourth floor story of an old ancient high school

                                                        i am asked to explain the origin of some other
                                         like a cellar in my throat there is a coolness in the evening of my gorge
                            and it tells me to remove my clothing creating a path toward the window and out
               of my own volition I knot each article

until i am at the glass, naked

levantada

I am on the tarmac
My grandfather is lingering by the door wearing a cowboy's hat
I hear the women chirping in the distance

"eso es"
That's him mija, say hi
He loves your mother
His favorite

I am wearing a paleta lime tank, I am meaty, I am six
This is a photograph
My brother has drawn devil ticks on me and has connected my brows

I am on the tarmac holding this photograph in my hand
He's hiding behind the black vehicle

he looks over once seeing his own mija far away on the heated turf. he tells me that he didn't mean to shoot the man. that he had been followed home from the bar. that he never knew him. that's where the story waivers.

black ardor rises.
y si llegaste a casa          you would have invited him in and we would have made him our own.
no viniste a casa             another location. porque no preguntaste? it invites those happenings

all of this is being said between the three dimensional plane
of hot black

i am lifted off the tarmac and brought indoors. they feed me slim strips of meat well-done

I: but none of it is actually funny? None of it is meant to make us laugh?


Two of us
One plastic
One flesh


The house was slanted left, two floors long
The house would wake at twelve, one plan we made


I'd slip out my flesh and replace the space with plastic.
I'd look over the mound at my mother, still.

I'd walk from the second down the slant to the first where we'd meet. He told us the rules of the game. How everything was hidden here. We had all night. We had the whole night. To find these damn toys.


I wouldn't tell myself how
I'd rather be the plastic, how    My flesh should be upstairs next to mother mound, how
The plastic doll lying next to my mother          marking my place should be downstairs playing
with the boys searching for her friends.



The flesh girl playing in the night
The flesh girl playing in the night
When was it okay for the flesh girl to play in the night?
these materials never find us
these materials
                   save us
                           these materials lead us to the source
                                                                               to the other toys
                                                                                                         to the rubber balls hidden in
                                                                                                                                                       refrigerator

the three of us are dispersed across the two floor flats. we travel from double basements to second floors and shuffle in a hurry looking for the toys before two. we don't say it but we're tired. how do we tell him we're tired? how do I tell him I'm more tired than my brother? that I speak on behalf of me, my flesh, my plastic figurine, and my brother? that he cannot have my brother? that my brother is my brother? that he needs to let us go to bed? that the plastic can't have it better than me? that my mother is standing at the top of the staircase holding the three foot tall barbie with blonde hair and flat feet, and she is looking down at me, scowling.

ven a dormir.

Toria N. Baez is a Latinx poet and painter. She currently lives in Urbana, IL as a graduate student studying Art Education at UIUC.