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a(Dios) ~by Natalia Martinez-Kalinina

  • Palabras Con Alas
  • Mar 1
  • 1 min read

The thing that light does 

to waves 

before a storm — 

the irascible, softened; 

the turbulent, becalmed. 


I forget, 

¿hay que soltar, 

o era saltar?  


How rain on skin 

leaps into joy— 

the opposite of what is coy— 

guttural laughter, 

a kind of cozy, 

uneven trust. 


 ¿Reír es 

remedio de valientes? 

 

There— 

as close to water 

as you can get 

without 

getting 

your eyes 

wet. 

 

¿Y si sí? 

 

Unlocked. 

Unraveled. 

Loosened. 

Cleaved. 

Acquiesced. 

 

So then, 

¿A Dios, 

adiós?  


Different names, 

metabolizing joy, 

under a single 

torrential sky. 


©2026. Natalia Martinez-Kalinina for Palabras con Alas. All rights reserved.

 
 
 

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