Hi, everyone.

A poem for all the creatives afraid to put something out. You got this, pana.

A mentor called me A “polite writer” He wanted me To be a little more Forthright. But I’ve read the Proverbs. And despite the royal...

Arroz. Y’know, rice. The kind Abuela makes In her busted oja With crunched pegao (or concón) Arroz. Paired with habichuelas maiz pollo...

To trace the outline of your slanted smile Run my hands through your silk hair Rub the sleepies out your eyes Hold your hand down every...

A poem dedicated to my two homes, New York City and Puerto Rico.