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Mis Ojitos Azabache

The gates to my soul are jet black

Photo by Adrian Kirkegaard on Unsplash

Long I craved for those watery eyes;
the color that so represents
Caribbean dreams
and criminal getaways.

Like my mom did
when she dyed her hair
golden sand against her piel canela
— her cinnamon skin.



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Carlos Garbiras

Carlos Garbiras


Storyteller sorting out the deeply ingrained neurosis of a topsy-turvy upbringing in Colombia.|| || Unequivocally Ambiguous Cultural Critiques