Nada(ando)

Three possible translations:

Swimming, I have nothing, I wear nothing

The chicana strokes her self

in the water,

stroke by stroke

her swimming erases the unrepairable words on the board.

She stretches back into the womb

of the mother

inside her,

there is no counselor like water

she thinks

as she theorizes

a recovery of her self

knowing

that after spending nine months inside her

no child could be born wrong.

She caresses the water

in her

floating novels and poems she read.

Soon books are cellophane floating around her

cushioning her

from the so very concrete world.

She thinks:

"If water could only have hands

instead of this

beautiful rhythm as body,

I wouldn't need a man".