Lidabel A. Avila

When I Asked My Best Friend How to Say “Wrist” in Spanish

I know it’s muñeca.

that it’s the same word for doll,

porcelain or plastic.

but when I open my mouth

pieces of a broken face fall out;

clinking-crashing noises

hitting unsteady ground.

so I cave in

to the mercy

of my friend who says

the word my mind couldn’t

find a place for anymore:

a discontinued figurine long forgotten.

I wonder

if memory would do the same

to words like





               If I lose these

               I will be at a loss

               for breath. My lungs

               will collapse

               like flamenco figures made of clay,

               turned over to flames after being

               shattered or neglected.

Lidabel A. Avila is a senior English (creative writing) major at SUNY Geneseo with previous publications in the college’s MiNT Magazine, Iris Magazine, and Gandy Dancer. She mostly works on poetry connected to her Afro-Caribbean background, challenges with mental health and identity, and relationships with herself and others. However, she also indulges in speculative fiction writing. When not writing, Lidabel can be found practicing new drawing styles or deep-diving on the internet about scientific theories.