María C. Domínguez

Home » Issue 87 » María C. Domínguez

María C. Domínguez


you will buy me the dancing bear
I gave to the charity shop
and feel too shy to get back. Perhaps you will
watch me, not wake me, when I sleep.
Perhaps we’ll stitch our memories together,
you in red, me in blue. You´ll make strawberries
and cream for breakfast and feed me
wiping the pips from my lips.
I want you to leave doodles on your desk
of me as a tiger, a daisy, a cloud
and I’ll forgive you for pissing on the seat,
for leaving curls in the hollows of my hips, perhaps.
I’ll do that if you’ll forgive me for dog-earring
the pages of your books. You swear you love my
morning hair, smoker’s breath, and empty account.
Perhaps we will never fight
in front of our friends, only bicker sweetly, our eyes
four warm lasers. You´ll take me to New York,
which is my dream (even though I hate flying).
You´ll make me drive to our first-kiss beach,
even though we know I hate driving.
By now, perhaps, you’ll know I can’t;
know my reply is, can we do this another day?
I plan to grow taller, wiser, travel the mountains
of your shoulders, thinking of you often, perhaps.

María C. Domínguez reads “Perhaps”

María C. Domínguez is the author of A Face in The Crowd her Erbacce–press winning collection and Ten Truths from Wonderland (Hedgehog Poetry Press) a collaboration with Matt Duggan. Winner of the third prize in Brittle Star´s Poetry Competition 2018. Finalist in the 2019 Stephen A DiBiase Poetry contest NY and was highly commended in the Borderlines Poetry Competition 2020. Her poems have appeared in many anthologies and journals such as Obsessed With Pipework, Apogee, The Long-Islander Huntington Journal NY, Popshot, PANK, Empty Mirror and The Chattahoochee Review.