Mari Sánchez Cayuso

Tag: photograhy

  • Sunblood

    i did not fall into you
    i opened

    like a wound that recognized
    its own knife

    you arrived quietly
    no thunder – no claim

    and still
    everything in me
    shifted its allegiance

    i was whole before you

    i tell myself this
    like a prayer that doesn’t hold

    yet now

    there is a before
    that feels uninhabited

    you touch so little

    and still
    i am rearranged

    light does this
    it enters and suddenly
    the room remembers its dust

    you stand in me

    like something uninvited
    and necessary

    and i

    i become
    terribly available to absence

    you leave

    this is your gift

    this is your violence

    to exist in me without weight

    to burn without flame

    tell me

    what is this

    that asks nothing

    and takes
    everything

    i do not call it love

    love is too small

    too human

    too forgivable

    this is something
    that survives

    even when
    you are not here

    and i

    i remain

    lit

    and ruined

    by it

    To be continued . .

  • Within

    There is no space

    Between us

    My respiration

    Zigzags

    Every breath

    Your bed takes

    In this capacity

    Blood – blazes

    Knowing

    I’ve been burned

    Many times before

    But with you

    I am less contained

    The suddenness

    Of your hands

    Intertwined with mine

    Fails – to open

    While our shadows

    Become identical

    In a synchronous rhyme

  • Distance•r

    I see • you

    Bringing rain

    To my hands

    Like a plant • waits

    To become • a tree

    Who am • I

    To • you

    In this whole earth

    Equating love

    For leaves

  • Realities

    My dad would always tell me, repeatedly.

    ‘You don’t pick the wrong men, they pick you’

    This always resonates when finding myself in that sort of situation.

    I’m quite imperfect couldn’t keep a marriage, not for lack of trying.

    Tried to give my sons the illusion of balance. That didn’t last, it was soul crushing.

    My sons are now grown men, and have a clear understanding of my side of the story.

    Yes, there are two sides.

    A high percentage of women leave – to live – not to be with someone else.

    I’ve lived, loved, and raised two men.

    Empty nest, feels loud.

    Their happiness and relationships, validates all efforts.