Can this quarter end !!!! I’m going crazy !!!

Why I love literature . Because Everytime I write a letter for example the letter e (now that I remember I don’t know why I picked e before I like wrote in my mind before I wrote on my paper but that’s just it! But you need the background.

So e , for example has been systematically remembered (or culturally remembered) as a signifier. That e can be a unit translatable to every human language structure of communicAtion that sole historical memory allows you to love that unit of communication enough to formulate that emotion to readers. Praxis. That emotion carries across time linking all of us under one ancient species. Literature reminds us of a time we used to know and an art-full mind in which our images are stored in.

That is why I love literature.

I give up. I surrender my self to others. I drag my bones across the dirt from which I was born in hopes to be integrated once again. I wish sometimes that my heart was not there that my emotions were vacant but I can’t help to feel. The only thing on my mind is the knot in my stomAch that won’t let go. Too long have I been carrying this with me and yet it never suffices with all that it takes from me . I give up . I am yours .

Shadow blaze eyebrows form the boundaries around two heavens.    Eyes set on the morning paper as he takes the words out of black and white margins to color his world. The blue dodger hat that had been titled seconds ago was fixed with angelino pride. He is a strong brown man. The man that I will marry. He is muse that sings of sugared nothing’s that to me are the emotions that line the constellations on a full moon night. 

He types the thought as tapestry that he will fold away and file only to one day remember and unravel the seam of his heart to a forgotten history, the foot that was the print.   

               V.Velasco Memory #1

To a love unforgotten 

                     Ivan Medina 

                       April 12, 2012