
Azalea Aguilar
2 Poems
Where My Lies Live
I have always been told
I am a selfish kind
Won’t share what’s mine
Parts that whisper, run
Like wanting him was not an immediate certainty
He suggested breakfast as we dressed in the morning light
I offered a kiss on the cheek, thanks not today, time and time again
I ask a friend what she really wants in this life
She stares out into the orange glow of the sun setting
Admits she doesn't know
I sit in the silence that follows
My lies live at the highest point of my laugh
I can’t ask for touch
I swallow words whole for fear he'd look away
They tangle in my stomach
Not touch like me on top
Palms guide hips
But the quiet kind
His eyes on mine, el me ve
Rubbing soft spots with calloused hands
My lies live in my spine
Shock my system when I bend too far right or left
Lies I won’t even let myself in on
Like being content
Tonight, sitting in the dark on my daughter's daybed
I want to take a blade to the soft spot where my wrist wrinkles
An old calling
My lies live tightly wound
Sharp stabs in the middle of my day
It's our 10 year wedding anniversary
I wash school uniforms
Pack lunches with little notes inside
Ask him where to call for reservations
My lies live everywhere
Wildflowers
I haven’t had a clue, a sense, a taste
Since I was a young me, same eyes, same face
I can tell you about a time things were sweet
Come close, I'll whisper it in your ear
The secret I’m sure he told me
As he carried me off to bed
After I fell asleep listening to him sing Corridos
In my dreams I follow him into battle
We crawl into a foxhole
Staring at each other in silence
I can tell you a story my sister recalls
She pressed her nose against my sweaty forehead
Inhaled innocence
Mom wasn’t always battered in a corner
There were days dad was at peace
Fishing on a lake
I can tell you times mom recollects
Six or seven beers in
He was beautiful, such a beautiful, beautiful man
Days were incubated in uncertainty
I can tell you about love
I remember a field of wildflowers
Along a Texas highway
Maybe it was just a picture
But I remember my father’s hands
His hands in that field of flowers
Pointing me toward beauty
Bio
Azalea Aguilar is a Chicana writer originally from Corpus Christi Texas, home of Tejana superstar Selena Quintanilla. Azalea moved to DC in 2002 with her then five month old son and has called the DMV home ever since. She holds a Masters of Social Work from the Catholic University of America and has recently opened a private therapy practice. Azalea is a mother to three magnificent children ages 23, 11, and 7 who constantly inspire her and keep her busy. She currently resides in District Heights, MD with her husband and young girls not far from her sister Dahlia Aguilar, who is also an accomplished poet. Azalea’s poems often focus on her personal experiences with generational trauma, grief, growing up around addiction and motherhood. When she isn’t writing, seeing clients, or spending time with her family you can find her reading, sitting around a fire, or watching live music.