I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
An amazing poet and writer, Neruda wrote a play about the life of Joaquin Murrieta. It's an interesting take, to say the least.
Query letters for Californio go out this week. Were going out to about 30 agents, producers and companies, including personal letters/requests from our actress to Moctezuma Esparza, Gregory Nava and Edward James Olmos.
Let the anxiety begin.