here comes the sun king: everybody's laughing, everybody's happy.

the sunlight in winter, after a bitter season.

The sun is setting in Harper's Ferry

Memories of her smiling with closed eyes, drunk, head on a pillow, dim light. Flashbacks of her poking shoulders when she laughs,
through the sheets.

readygo

Maria is one of my favorite parts about here, the clothes hanging out to dry, colorful outside my window, hearing other families having dinner as their forks and voices echo out of their windows, the dogs, the cats outside the Alhambra and descending down the vines, dancing to girly music with my roommate and getting out of our cozy beds to dance when we hear our favorite songs, learning the word "tiqismiqis", rapping while drinking sangria, exploring with a group of three and ending up with a group of 6 or 7, the discotecas that end at 7am, no pasa nada, vale, the view of the Alhambra from El Mirador de San Nicolas, the hike up the Albaycin, the sunset behind the Alhambra, the silhouettes, the cobble stone that kill my feet, the kids playing in the playground at midnight, the night the elderly couples danced outside in a center, the puppy that bit my mouth, the surprise of tapas, the people at the university, being a part of many groups, the way the milk tastes, warm milk with sugar, bread with everything which is delicious but horrible, Maria's tomato sauces, fruit after every meal, the way the flies enter through the windows and then leave right away, hola guapa, how I've had a croissant every day since arriving here, churros con chocolate, hola guapa (*wink), the pet mouse on the neighbor's window sill that squeaks at night, the three miniscule drops of water that were carried with the breeze and brought to my lips, my eyes closed, sand and pebbles sticking to my lower back, dried blood on our knees and feet, riding the waves and jumping, the rocks cutting us, the peach collecting sand, dead silver sardines on the shore, the erect feather dug in the sand, when my phone fell into the sea and I learned to live and not take pictures, a friend flicks and flicks his lighter in the salty breeze, the mountains covered in clouds, the asymmetrical sidewalks and hills, everything is connected through its sloppiness, the cars bouncing with the slopes of the tierra, our eyes stung from the salt, when Maria held my hand and kissed it, hugging her and swaying, waking up to a montage of Beatles songs from the neighbors, oy oy oy, our song "Busted", the way stubble brushes through long hair, the smell of the clothes hanging outside my window in the night breeze, no vaya, no vaaaya, quiero guardarme tu pelo en mi bolsillo, white curtains move behind a window, I finally like olives, my feet are finally healed, no tengo la fuerza a decirlo, being the only girl in a yoga class and the guys smiling like children, alif rrrra noon zayyy, rattling of the tongue, the bubbling sound of the Arabic and Spanish r, pan y chocolate, the girls with short bangs and nose rings, the girls with strands of dread-locks, his teeth, coincidentally running into the same man every day down Recogidas and in the market, his hooped earrings and black lab, how I fear he'd fall in love with my sister, cupcake shopping, the puppeteers, the babies in light pink carriages, water dripping down balconies through the flower pots, I love u so much my stomach hurts!!!! Because I squeeze it when I miss u, the intro to She's Leaving Home, one year exactly until Mary's wedding, he broke a rock for us, I opened a seashell but there was nothing inside, librarian, romulus, she's leaving home, spanish caravan, quedate luna, no te vaya si te vas, Fernando dancing and singing to Spice Girls, freakies meakies, Shavona's sweet hug as she leaves for class and I'm in bed sleeping and coughing, Maria's breakfast in bed, meeting Jose, making everyone cry in Germany as we Skyped mama & baba, the first ring bought for me is probably returned, and chocolate con avellanas, the look on Maria's face when I gave her chocolate, finally connecting with Jessica and having a deep talk while she cooked noodles and curry, the sound of Nieves's hands touching her photos and pointing to islands on the map, Fernando singing to Elton John's "Can you feel the love tonight" and turning it up for me to hear, Fernando's brown eyes, pancacas, Maria's kisses and hugs, the way she holds my hand and squeezes it until my nails dig into her skin, the view from Nieves's rooftop which rekindled the first love I had for Granada, how God turns me into what I want to be without any of my strengths, placing me beside a Moroccan on the plane, having anxiety after imbibing which told me to be prudent and cut out over-indulgences, how the colorful things are happening now as this all comes to an end, everyone in my Arabic class, karaoke in class, dime carino, y donde esta Shavona?, habla en espanollll, ay mi nina!, (while hugging me, she says) "aaah, esta chica es tierna," has cenado? y que has cenado?, exchanging hilarious fake smiles with Maria, how she and him fell in love right before my eyes without me knowing, joining a different type of crowd and partying with them, his really nice septum piercing that worked perfectly with his lips and top row of teeth,

I can't believe the time of restoration is finally here.

I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten (Joel 2:25).

I could hear the dirt crumble under the heavy pot of plants scraping the balcony floor above ours. Their siestas are over and a truck is rumbling while parked along the street. The curtains are yellow and red, I translated a song yesterday and showed a funny picture at the dinner table, cried at the thought of ascending up the stairs and then descending midway, questioning to eat a peach, and I quietly told Maria buenas noches after talking to her on this couch, smiling at how cozy and tired she looked in her glasses, black night dress, and loose white robe. Sometimes I talk to her about the little things, about her lentil soup and some words I don't know how to conjugate, just to hear her Spanish, motherly voice. I fall asleep with shadows of my clothes hanging on the line outside my window, and I wake up the next morning to find 10 euros on the cobble stone.

thinking of Spain

One sweet dream...came true...today...came true....today...came true....today...yes it did now ow ow ow ow ow ow.

I shook and said, Sorry, I was thinking of spiders.