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Wendy Brown-Baez

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San Sebastian del Oeste

San Sebastain del Oeste, Mexico
San Sebastain del Oeste, Mexico

San Sebastian del Oeste | Media List


Statement

San Sebastian del Oeste

In the gold room of the hotel
someone is sleeping, someone is not.
The walls are thick adobe brick in a town
five hundred years old and willing

to take all the time it needs to grow a rose
or wind a rope. Like me. I am taking
all the time I need. No one can hurry
me now.

My body is awake, my brain dreams
in a mist that came over the mountains.
It is evening. Silver church bells rang
and candles were lit in the small bar

where we had Sangria and
sandwiches. Why don’t you admit it?
You want something bigger than yourself
to happen. Me, too. It drives us together.

Where we live the city is hot and crowded
and I wish I could carry the mist home
in my suitcase. I wish I could squeeze the
moon into my pocket and take it out

whenever I need an omen or a prayer.
In the gold room silence is thick and moist
like a cave. I won’t wake you from the sleep
you need. It’s what we came here to do.

The door key is a foot-long antique
that banged against my hip when
we strolled dark cobble-stoned streets.
The moon was a spade to plant all our seeds.