Every Friday night we feature a short story, essay, personal narrative,
poem, spoken word, or short film for your enjoyment.
Tonight’s poem is from Tori Cardenas
and wonder how often I’ve driven this corduroy road
indigo creeping around mountain’s base
and sunset peeking through cloud cover
Breathing, I still smell rain in my mouth
and the soft pinch of stars on my tongue
wind carves waves over fields blood saturated
night’s dome paints in pastel heavy with charcoal
I return home to my mother’s land, my hands replaced
with sticks, my tongue cast onto wet concrete
and I know my guilt and my innocence.
Tori Cárdenas is a short, brown, tattooed poet from Northern New Mexico. In 2014, she graduated summa cum laude from the University of New Mexico. Currently, Cárdenas lives and works in Albuquerque.