I Have a Vision of How I'd Like to Live

I Have Unreachable Desires... In this vision,
I’m sitting on an old wooden table
A dim romantic orangish light is above me
Bringing my plate to life
I have a red flower in my hair
Matching the lipstick on my lips
My braceless smile
Shines brighter than the light
As the pepper in my hand dances with my cool mouth
My eyes are empty
For I have nothing to worry about
Nothing.
In my simple outfit,
I look flawless.
The seams of the blouse
Are bound to my body
Like the seams of my happiness
to my soul.
My hips move on the chair
To the rhythm of the
Bachata echoing from the front door.
Old men and women
Dance and laugh
Listen to drumbeats
and guitar strokes.
They are enjoying a consequenceless night
The music is the air itself
Nothing else matters
My real face says
I was made for this!
…
I eat from my plate
My thick arms are thoughtless
Picking food
Dropping it in my happy mouth
My upper belly
Is out in the open
Because this would be how my people would dress in such events
And oh, the colors
The yellows
Greens
Reds
And Yellows
On my shirt
On my long flowery
Matching skirt
The greenness of my sandals
And the [b]rougeness[/b]
Of my painted toenails
The thoughtlessness of my youth
The joy
It would bring me
Had it been that way.
Had it been that
I was raised by people with music
And joy
In their hearts.
But I’m not Hispanic
Nor do I have thick arms
So forget this one story.
It won’t make sense to you.
Because it makes no sense to me.