1 min read
I am nobody.
Walking through the false tears 
of sand, 
I bristle at the thorns 
of moon.
I am nothing. 
I come and go dreaming big dreams of empire,
yet sawdust falls around me
covering my nestled spine in leprosy. 
I used to hover orchids purpled in oblivion.
I would linger softly with loving touch over a book,
rustling its poems, savoring its letters, its text. 
But no longer do they speak to me. 
No books 	 
		        no writing   	    
				                  no words    	       
						                          no people. 
All have left me. 
And so I stand alone, 
thinking myself empty,
visible to none: 
a shattered vessel
ruined by a broken pen. 

Here is an interpretation Ana provides of the poem.


No soy nadie.
Caminando a través de las falsas lágrimas
de arena,
me erizan las espinas
de luna.
No soy nada.
Voy y vengo recordando grandes sueños de imperio.
Sin embargo, el aserrín cae a mi alrededor
cubriendo mi espalda enclavada en lepra.
Solía sobrevolar moradas orquídeas del olvido.
Me entretenía tocando con ternura un libro,
susurrando sus poemas, saboreando sus letras, su texto.
Pero ya no me hablan.
Ni libros
                       ni escritura
                                                  ni palabras
                                                                             ni nadie.

Todo me ha dejado.
Y entonces me quedo sola,
pensando que estoy vacía
visible para ninguno:
un vaso destrozado
arruinada por una pluma rota.

Ana M. Fores Tamayo

Being an academic not paid enough for her trouble, Ana M. Fores Tamayo wanted instead to do something that mattered: work with asylum seekers. She advocates for marginalized refugee families from Mexico and Central America. Working with asylum seekers is heart-wrenching, yet satisfying. It is also quite humbling, she states. Her labor has eased her own sense of displacement, being a child refugee, always trying to find a home. In parallel, poetry is her escape. She has published in The Laurel Review, Indolent Books, Shenandoah, and many other anthologies and journals, both in the US and internationally, online and in print. Her poetry in translation with its accompanying photography has been exhibited in art fairs and galleries as well. Most recently, her manuscript "Peregrina," only in Spanish, will be published by the Spanish Valparaiso Press this summer 2022. She hopes you like her art; it is a catharsis from the cruelty yet ecstasy of her work. Through it, she keeps tilting at windmills.

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