In the relative silence of another Lima urban night,
I sit at my desk with my notes,
attempting to verbalize culture and its significance.

But the winds are beginning to thicken in my skull;
there’s a tornado building in my brain.
My sight blurs and my heart tenses as it accelerates,
in efforts to supress the building sentiment.

Every cell, every mitochondrion in my existence, strains to contain
the encumbrance of my husband’s diagnosis.

I crave for numbness,
for hackneyed dumbness,
so as not to question
so as not to interrogate, the shredded bits of ambiguity
this moment has allowed me.

Tonight, Lord, may your Grace bring me Hope


2 thoughts on “Ambiguity

Add yours

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a free website or blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: