TEJE BOLAS DE HILO
By Noemi Corona
Water is heated in the fire, the firewood is lit and the heart is cooked. Weavings of thoughts that heal the heart. I am of healing soul and sorcerer blood: mama jovita, mama licha, mama magician. Of enchanting earth, talks, words that grow in the branches, and charms that are planted. Love phrases that bloom are sown. I come from the little tree that became an airplane; we are avocado tree, strawberries, blackberries, lime tree, the declaration and release. Te with fabrics, my greatest loves, the most beautiful thing lived.
Agüita, to give breath to the music, to stop pleasing others, and dance for the heart. Agüita to write stories carry woven rebozos. Marking earth to be able to sow, harvest food, and reap art. Fertilizer of my soul, your memory is preserved; with shouts to the wind, your most beautiful harmony is sung.
Balls of yarn are woven.
My hair carries petals with hands that weave your heart.
Comadritas.
The balls of yarn are already sweaters; the balls of yarn are already dresses.
Needles and crochets unraveling so many balls.
The balls of yarn are already bows; the balls of yarn are already skirts.
Knitting little pieces of the pieces of the heart.
Words with vowels of love.
Unable to say goodbye, potted seedlings kiss the timbers of this great pain.
Balls of yarn are already scarves.
Shelter your fears and cover your soul.
Knit you with fabrics, my greatest loves, the most beautiful thing ever lived.
