Have you ever sat quietly and watched a swarm of flies float around in a cloud? I wonder why, if you try to pay attention to a single one, you might find like I did that it zig zags side to side, up and down in its own established column. You can’t track it for long, it soon becomes a part of the bigger picture again. But for those few seconds, before it goes into a shadow and you loose it forever, you might feel the slightest and most fleeting sense of empathy for the insect. You wonder, just for a second, whether that cool breeze you just felt on the nape of your neck had a simultaneous effect on the little guy. Perhaps he made an extra loopty-loop to show off for you as he rode the current. But alas, just as the empathy peaks your eyes blink, and in that frame of an instant the swarm moves on, taking with it your curiosity and once again you become a fly-hating human.

Pieces of Spain dance in my bones,
Give form to the melodic tap of my toes,
The wine stained scarf hangs proud, Memento.

How could I not go,
Twenty on the dot,
pure innocence, does it show?

A molecular connection to las aldeas tanto lejos.
Since high school español, my pen name Julita.
The fine mystery of culture,
Tongue twists, mind tricks.
Direct translation or adage, should I just guess?
The longer you stay the more you deem fit.

Entanglement between selves,
Born in two places.
A past life emerging, a new one still forming.
Be it fate or chaos,
it was something that drew me,

There.
Semester abroad, destiny achieved
Whatever it was,
I grabbed life by the sleeve.
Chugged freedom by the pitcher.
Basked in the deep sea of Lorca, Cervantes, and Llosa,

Unamuno!

A country so mature,
In a flagship college town,

Holy toledo, over there
A hundred bats inverted on the prow.

One step inside, a gasp from all sides,
Get carried away, go backwards in time.
Living in history, no English spoken.

The trip of a lifetime,
No doubt, a fine token.