by Arely Jiménez
Translated from the Spanish by Yasmin Rojas
I always wanted to write a poem like this,
like this one: without sense.
where there aren’t many metaphors
and it says river to mean weeping,
among other obvious things.
A poem without grand effects,
almost saying that I’m the keeper of a mystery
even if it’s a lie.
A poem full of
graceless truths,
without rhythm and without tropes,
thought up through carelessness,
which is how one really touches
the truth.
Arely (Aguascalientes, Mexico, 1992) is a poet, teacher, copy editor, and feminist whose poetic work explores the body, vulnerability, illness, and the margins of everyday life. She is also a kidney patient, and her writing engages deeply with the experience of illness and creative resistance. She has published several poetry books, including Madre Piedra y otros poemas, La noche es otra sombra, Metamorfosis de la O, and SiRenal. In addition, she has led creative and therapeutic writing workshops, especially aimed at communities living with chronic illnesses.
Translated from the Spanish by Yasmin Rojas
