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To:
Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz
in the sky

by Flor de té

the risers of your steps
Sor Juana
are
and have always been
higher

than higher

I've met you
through biographies
in your literature poetry
music and drama

you
always moving
entangled in the lianas

of New Spain's vice regal court

later
in your convent's salon
a brilliant genius

until

amid candles
incense thorns
in chiaroscuro rosaries

discalced veiled
I meet you mute

gargling in fountains
steep
in holy waters

your inked fingers
made static

first by others
then by you inevitably–
you had to

then ill plagued
dead

I open you in books

outing
for me your diction

for you
to emerge sonorously

I bring you down
from heights unveil you

though you now
are sunk and buried

as customary
your soul is here
right here ¡ojala! 


 


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