I was never the girl who knew how she got anywhere
How did I come to be in Condesa,
Sunset, Gràcia, or Harlem
Somewhere there had to be a leap of faith
Stuffing a sock
Down fear’s fat throat
As if that could keep it quiet
On every quilted night
I thought there had to be an answer
A cure for living
And I was going to find it
Then the rain would come
Double the questions
Interrogate the silence I could not empty