"Crabwise (Cangrejo)" by Sara D. Rivera

Now at this crossing 

I cling to the clam-chill 

of your skin. Somos

cangrejos cruzando 

al mar. 

I wake on the morning 

I look for any roadblock to stop 

my leaving. You haven't woken 

when I imagine our pincers 

locked, one crab disengaging 

from a clicking line and 

disappearing into foam. 

Andamos de lado pinza 

a pinza y aquí en la cama 

aprendemos sudar. Your forehead 

gleams like a shell. See now the shoreline 

extending from the edge, 

the ancestral bed that sinks us 

and pulls us apart?

Ahora beso una cara o un 

caparazón, el corazón 

ahora duro, la concha de una voz. 

Your eyes are engaging, two cloud-filled openings.

SARA D. RIVERA is an interdisciplinary artist and writer from Albuquerque, New Mexico, now based in Boston. She holds a BFA in Art Studio and a BA in English from the University of New Mexico, an MFA in Creative Writing (Poetry) from Boston University, and was awarded a 2013 Robert Pinsky Global Fellowship in Poetry for travel in Ireland. Her artistic and literary practice includes visual art, music, performance, genre fiction, poetry, and Spanish/English translation. Her work has been published in the Loft Anthology's "Lay Bare the Canvas: New England Poets on Art" and "The Dialogist." 

Read more of Sara D. Rivera's poetry in Issue 2, Vol. 1, Spring 2015.

Posted on June 1, 2015 .