She’s up at the stage

Clinging onto every word, every melody

As if it’s her last

That high note opens my heart

I feel for everything she’s ever loved

She’s ever cried for

She spirals around with a big smile

Today may be her last day

Magic in the air

Her voice is a spell

Penetrating my soul

Reminding me
it might be my last day too

My godmother took me to a Cuban restaurant for my 17^th birthday. I ordered salmon with yellow rice and it was sensational. After we ate, this woman with big curly hair and a smile that can melt you arrived.

“Buenos dias!”

She greeted the crowd and started grooving. Soft Cuban salsa music. Tributes to Celia Cruz. The woman had such a strong voice that I felt the waves. I felt her strong spirit. Desires and sorrow. I felt her. She was so raw up in that stage, dancing to her own melody. Feeling complete in every step she took. This is beautiful.

“Azucar! Azucar!”

I felt Celia Cruz up in that stage. Her battles and bravery as a black female salsa singer. How she closed her eyes and saw a world of music where others came together and beautiful energies collaborated.