The Land Where I Come From

I

the red earth

where my roots anchor

grows fruit trees

that mix their bright

colors and calls me

knows me

by name

the green hills

where moo cows graze

slow in their ways

like grandma stirring

the blackberry jelly

humming

by the woodburning stove

the rose garden

where Mariana and I

practiced our cartwheels

and made bridges

with our stomachs exposed

towards

the burning sun

the Indian trail

where the Indian lived

his bow and arrow

ready at hand

so we ran

laughing

laughing till the end

II

the summer breeze

humid from the sea’s weight

happy soccer balls

kicked around the sand

a far off improv band

seduced us

with their samba beats

the dirt road to that hotel

with the spooky mademoiselle

your breath on my neck

the whole night

where we slept

naked

on joint mattresses on the floor

the way you felt

deep in me in the ocean waves

the coolness a nuisance

to the heat inside

your eyes in their best hazel

laid rest

in the darkness of mine

the juice

that dripped from your elbows

as you savored the fat mango

shirtless at the kitchen table

made you smile your dimpled smile

like the blissful child

my country made of us

III

the land where I come from

is more than just a place

it is a desire

a taste

the green and the yellow

the blue and the white

light me with their fire

the land where I come from

is in the tears I cry

in my hands that ache

in my lips that never lie

in my sex

in my sweat

in my strength that never dies

the land where I come from

is this red earth

an old and wise love

that’s still burning

missing and yearning

calling

calling me back

the land where I come from

where the sea runs through my veins

where I crave

for the tongue and the sun

’cause I know, at the end of the day

the Brazil where my fruit trees grow

is where my bones remain