Una mas, una mas

My third night in Oaxaca I woke, thrashing, run run run to the bathroom to throw away the curtain door. sickness. "the disease period, getting to know the bed". It lasted the entire evening and aches in my body the entire next day I slept with the 10/10 day outside my reach. I bounced back. and then Bryce fell victim. nausea and bathroom living. Chucho and I broke out to Cafe Central, I tried mexcal. not to my liking. and danced our faces and smiles. We found our place on the stage where we dramatically twisted and contorted our matching bodies. No one here will ever see me again. I will dance my most heart. Revealing of the push inside that we ignore. one free dance. and Chucho replayed he and Bryce's meeting in the open courtyard.
He speaks in English and I speak in Spanish and we teach one another. I write my new words in a tiny book Jean made me and I read over every day.
In the morning we had great stories for Bryce and we packed our bodies with mindful of health for the trip to Monte Alban. Zapotec ruins outside the city, sandy brown and bright green grass. we hiked up the ceremonial centers, the view above to praise the gods that gave them the nourishment and beauty of the land surrounding. to eat homemade delicious cooking from Chucho's mother, Anita that evening and every evening after. I am still in awe of what is common here, the colors, the barred windows, enormous doors. soccer/futbol in the streets, children selling candies, the shining sun on the sandy earth floors, the edges and balconies and curiously cut walls, flirtatious smiles, and small closet doorways of stores to buy. and Bryce and I have our share of sleepovers that our parents denied us as children, I sing early in the morning and we talk of dreams the night before and mexico treats me well.