words slip into our subconscious, never to be conjured up again. palabras que nos cambian para siempre. english, spanish, everything in between. our inner dialogue, unexplainable actions, opinionated beliefs, shaped by the words we internalize. charming and harsh, unforgettable and cutting. like the ripples of a disturbed pond, never-ending but constantly ebbing.
ENCAPSULATION by Emara Saez
a kiss on the forehead, a smile on her lips, sweet whispers after being tucked in, the sound of her voice trailing away as the door creaks shut, que duermas bien, mi muñeca. knit sweaters paired with aged, wrinkled hands, soft-spoken speech swirled in the air, half-baked memories and meaningful advice, baby, I wish the best for you. loud laughter over lunch, inside jokes, nicknames, and chortles, interlocked elbows to face the world, amistad verdadera, eso es lo que tenemos. basking in the sunlight on the beach, holding hands, running into the ocean, splashing and sailing into the horizon, smitten with ourselves and this instance, sweetheart, may this moment never end. watching her grow up, sprouting like a sunflower, now tall and regal, estas bella, mi corazón.
呢
looking back, the self-describing words are no longer my own, but of others. stuck with what has been said; entre la espada y la pared. a stream of consciousness not my own, a conglomeration of everything heard, read, and seen.
18 TUFTS OBSERVER NOVEMBER 22, 2021
