Streams of silky moonlight
Slice the air
Thick with the scent of tortillas cooling
Meats roasting, and our perfume jumbling together
on the jagged, grey-white cobblestones
We brujas – the different girls
Who dare to dress themselves in dreams – the
“Everyone be damned if you don’t like us” girls
We gather under the buttery glow of la parroquia
Singing songs to midnight
Swathed in margarita mix,
Anejo tequila on our lips
We brujas declare ‘I love you,’ at the witching hour
On Dia de San Valentine
In el corozon de Mexico
Heart to heart, we dance, we laugh, we dream
5,000 feet above the rest of the world, – the ones who look up
And wonder about the Goddesses high on the mountain.
Burlesque Press 