capitulo 3: al otro lado de la pared

“Dr. Nielsen? Would you like a drink, or a smoke?” Gomez was standing at Nielsen’s side. Nielsen had finally stopped crying, but the man’s pallor worried Gomez. If Nielsen passed out before spilling the big beans, Gomez would never hear the end of it from Peters.

“I’m fine.” Nielsen didn’t move his body at all. Only his lips moved: it gave his voice a gravelly, disembodied quality. Gomez decided to seize the moment here with Nielsen. He sat across from Nielsen, and opened the case file. He placed pictures of Jay and Daisy down on the table. Nielsen’s tears began to flow again.

“Nielsen. What else can you tell me about Daisy and Jay? What else did you see?”

Nielsen grimaced. “Do you want to know about the rumors or about what I saw?”

Gomez leaned in. “That depends. How much of the rumors did you see, and how many did you just pass around the mill?”

Nielsen recoiled.  “I would’ve never soiled Daisy’s reputation. Jay, on the other hand, could gladly fester for all I could care. I wasn’t the only one in the department who voted against Jay for tenure. He needed no help ruining his reputation.”

“What really upset you about Jay? His impropriety, or the fact that his impropriety was with Daisy?”

“Both. He took advantage of a student’s trust in him. It’s even worse that it was with Daisy, and that he didn’t care to hide what was happening. She was all alone here in the States, and he used that to ensnare her”

“If Jay was so public with the relationship, how did everyone peg you for the man trying to sleep with Daisy?”

“Jay started that rumor after I saw he and Daisy in the office.”

Gomez sat up. “The time you told me and Peters about?”


“You saw them in the office?”

“I saw enough to know that something was wrong.”


Daisy twirled a chunk of her rose-gold hair, flipping the soft strands over and over in her fingers. She was waiting outside Jay’s office, as always, to speak with him. Their meetings were useless, of course; she was already a well-versed forester, and Jay was only useful insofar as his mammal identification skills helped her determine who was destroying her field equipment. It was largely a pretense for doing  lo que se supone between a young woman and a handsome man.

Daisy could feel herself blushing and she twisted her hair even more in embarrassment, mixing the rose gold pieces near her face with the long orange fringe of her bangs. I have to calm down, or he’ll notice. Both her and Jay were empaths–so when she has stumbled into him as a rambunctious first year student in her PhD program, she had immediately known how he thought of her. He had known what was on her mind as well–namely, that she would gladly drown herself in the riverine blue of his eyes.

At first, it was merely a tantalizing game to Daisy–she knew she was beautiful, and that he was a married man. Sure, she wasn’t the average slim, blonde American woman; but wasn’t that part of the allure? Daisy-who, in her real life as a Mexican national in the USA,was named Xochitl-had played this game with white men before. Usually, Daisy could stop the game before things got too serious; but with Jay, she found that the game of four-dimensional chess was harder. Every time she thought she had him figured out, he dove in a different direction. The only thing that never changed was their meeting time; and every Thursday Daisy would wait obediently on the other side of the wall for Jay.

This time, Jay caught her attention by knocking on the doorframe. Daisy couldn’t help but look up at him as he towered over her in the doorway. Daisy might’ve been the tallest woman in her village in southern Mexico, but in Jay’s shadow she was just another tiny woman. Jay ushered her into his office, closing the door behind them with a soft click. Daisy felt the space between them fill with electricity, vibrant and silver. Daisy centered herself, and felt the gem in her forehead glimmer as it awakened. It dimmed her sense of hearing and balance drastically, but as her gem gleamed in her forehead Daisy could see Jay’s emotions in full color. As he looked at her, his eyes gleamed a fluorescent blue; that same blue began to drip from his canines.

Daisy knew what was next: the gem in her forehead had been telling her what would be next since it manifested on Daisy’s seventh birthday. She barely managed to free her backpack from her shoulders before Jay had buried his teeth in her left shoulder. His lower canines-outlandishly large in proportion to the rest of his teeth-sank into her flesh, drawing blood. Daisy responded by digging her nails into his shoulders as Jay picked her up, driving the tips of her fingers into the underneath of his shoulder blades. Daisy could hear Jay growling as she did so, could feel it reverberate from his mouth into her flesh. Daisy and Jay hadn’t consummated their feelings yet–Jay had a wife and children at home, and Daisy had been reluctant to physically trespass on their marriage. Jay also vacillated between the violent blue of his feelings, and cold carmine of his guilt. Daisy could see the change with her gem; Jay’s teeth and eyes would stop fluorescing, and instead the carmine would begin to drip from his forehead. He would apologize, and then Daisy would sit calmly in the chair on the other side of the desk and speak science with him. It always ended this way.

Daisy waited for this change as Jay kissed his way up her neck. As he sank his teeth into her lower lip, Daisy let herself stare into his eyes. She loved the fluffy, cumulus cloud-like nature of his irises; she almost wanted to scoop it up into her hands and drink it like water. Daisy turned her gaze to Jay’s forehead, waiting for the red to begin to drip. Daisy let her hands get lost in Jay’s hair as his fingers crawled along her thighs. Jay had pushed Daisy against the desk–as she sat down, he parted her legs like water.

Daisy felt something like panic blossom within the gem in her forehead–for a moment, her vision was tinged burgundy. This time it will really happen. Daisy wondered if she should be the one to stop it now, if she should trigger his guilt by thumbing the ring on his finger or by pushing him away. She probed at his feelings with her gem, willing his psyche to render a way out of the game. Instead, Daisy found herself at a precipice, staring down into an inky blue. In the ink, she could see Jay’s body outlined in the same blue fluorescence that dripped from his lips. Now, she could also see his gem–it was a dagger-like sliver of diamond between his lungs. Daisy felt her fear turn to exhilaration as the gem began to fluoresce blue. This is it.

Suddenly, Daisy sensed a new energy coloring its way down the hallway. Struggling to bring herself from the precipice’s edge, she pushed Jay away both with her hands and with her gem. The sensation of falling away from him, of tumbling uncontrollably in space, severed Daisy’s connection to her gem. For a second, Daisy’s entire world flashed the deep burgundy of her own feeling of fear; the next second Daisy was on the floor of Jay’s office, the cold linoleum on her cheek the only thing keeping her conscious.

Jay immediately swept down and enveloped her in his arms. Daisy could hear him, but the world was still strangely muted in sound. A deep ringing in her ears, like the flapping of leathery wings on glass, was the only real sound she could perceive. Weakly, Daisy peeked her gem open once more; she could feel her heartstrings groan in protest. She finally recognized the deep green energy emanating from outside the door. It was Dr. Nielsen, and for whatever reason he was about to burst in to Jay’s office. Daisy tried to push this thought to Jay’s gem; but she could no longer sense it.


It was too late to save face. Nielsen opened the door, and the only thing wider than the open door were his eyes. Daisy could see the scene reflected in Nielsen’s glasses–of herself limp in Jay’s grip, of Jay’s arms wrapped around her like a snake. As Nielsen’s voice rang out into the room, Daisy’s normal sense of hearing returned and her gem went dark. Daisy heard Nielsen ask “What is going on here?” before her world was enveloped in static again–this time, Daisy felt her consciousness slip away into the prosaic hum of neurons firing in the dark.



capitulo dos: la floresita de papel

Gomez and Peters stood outside the interrogation room; Peters was buried in a phone call, but Gomez was focused on Nielsen. After describing what sounded like the start of every typical bad romance between a prof and a student, Nielsen had begun to wheeze. Peters had wanted to know more, but Gomez had decided to let Nielsen have a moment alone. It did him no good if Nielsen incapacitated himself before revealing crucial information. In truth, Gomez had simply not wanted to stay one more minute in that freezing room with Nielsen. Catching his icy gaze was like taking a kick in the teeth.

“Gomez. I think it might be time to call in Dr. Weiss. From what it sounds like–”

“Peters, from what it sounds like, we got what Weiss can claim is a simple misunderstandig between a traditional Mexican girl and a cold Nordic man. There’s no there, there.” Gomez turned to see an exasperated Peters–this time he had moved on from peeling away his cuticles to ripping at his hangnails. Peters was a paint by numbers. straightest laced, cornstarch collar pressed man of the badge; Gomez knew Peters felt that Weiss probably deserved the noose just for kissing a woman outside of marriage. But in terms of the law, unless Daisy had reported it, the kiss meant nothing.

“Come on, Gomez, you’re Mexican yourself and I can see it from your face that you don’t believe those kisses were simple farewell pecks.” Peters practically snarled. His phone rang again, and once again Peters buried himself in it.

Gomez hated him for it, but Peters was right. Nielsen might not have known enough in the moment to understand, but Weiss had definitely kissed Daisy in an act of affection, of romance–a feeler pressed out towards a girl half his age, probing for boundary. From what Nielsen had alluded to, Weiss had found none.

Gomez turned again to the glass that divided him from Dr.Nielsen. Nielsen had taken out the tiny, multipetaled flower once again, making it dance between his thumbnail and forefinger. A stream of tears flowed steadily down Nielsen’s cheeks.

“Call Weiss in. We can start to shake him down while Nielsen gets his act together.” Gomez hated the words the instant they were spit from his mouth; but what he hated even more was the bleak despair emanating from the glass beside him.

“That’s what a man likes to hear!” Peters smacked Gomez on the back–the thud was loud, if painless. Peters waddled away, presumably to fetch someone to fetch Weiss. Gomez simply stared back into the glass, watching even his reflection be dwarfed by Nielsen’s huge body.


“Dr. Nielsen? Is it okay to speak with you?”

Nielsen looked up at the soft, bell-like voice. In the reflection of the computer monitor, he saw Daisy’s soft, wide body. For a moment, he felt overwhelmed by the perfect roundness of her: from the perfect oval nature of her face, to the soft curves of her bust and hips, the delicate swell of her tummy, and the thickness of her legs. Her hair–long, perpetually multicolored, and softly curled at its ends, was what captivated him most of all. Even in the dank resolution of the screened reflection, Daisy’s hair seemed to glimmer and glint in the sunlit room.

He turned to face Daisy, hoping the flush was gone from his face.  Sitting down, he was nearly as tall as she was. It made him feel awkward, oversized, out of place. Nielsen checked his watch, mostly to check his face in it’s reflection, but also to see if he had time to speak with her. At most, he could give her ten minutes before his next project.

“Sit down. We have time.” He motioned to the chair on the other side of the desk. Daisy caught his eyes, and he saw her blush nervously, the deep pink of a split fig. She sat down, carefully adjusting her powder-blue dress as she did. The desk sat between them, but neither of them touched it. Daisy began to pull at a chunk of her multicolored hair, running her fingers through it as if she were trying to smooth it into oblivion.

“I-Ijust wanted to apologize to you for Dr. Weiss. I know he didn’t react in the nicest way to you, he just gets really uptight about how-”

“Why are you apologizing to me, for what Jay did?” Nielsen interrupted Daisy. He hated that she was nervous, that it brought out her baby talking and stutter. Her real voice was beautiful, precious crystal–he wanted those dulcet tones to wash over him. Her nervousness hurt him profoundly, and he could think of no way to assuage her fears except to interrupt her train of hysteric thoughts.

Daisy’s lip trembled, and she bit her lip, smearing red lipstick onto the translucent pearl of her teeth. Regret, dark and heavy, bloomed in Nielsen’s chest.

“Because I know you only reacted like that because you wanted to protect me. And I know Jay only reacted how he did, to protect me from you. It’s just a bad misunderstanding and it’s my fault.” Daisy began to twist the same unfortunate chunk of hair, tighter and tighter, a cyclone of purple and pink and gold. Nielsen could see the dark roots of her hair flattening against her skull in protest.

“It isn’t your fault, Daisy. And, if anything, he and I should both be asking you for forgiveness. We put you–I put you–in a bad situation, when it was unwarranted.” Nielsen leaned in closer to Daisy, to whisper to her. “Daisy, if something is happening, if Jay makes you feel un-”

“Jay is my best friend on this campus. He does everything to help me feel at home here.” Daisy’s voice was flat, no affect–grape soda left open overnight. Nielsen recoiled from her.

“Alright. I believe you. But I want you to know what you can always come to me, I can help you. For anything.” Nielsen wished he was better at comfort, at espousing warmth; he felt like there was something in his voice or body language that kept getting in the way of real communication with Daisy.

He noticed Daisy shifting around with something under the desk. She pulled out a small golden box from her backpack. Daisy stood, her soft bronzine hands glinting almost as gold as the box.

” I made this for you. I know it’s really small, but I tried really hard to make it beautiful. I know carnations are your favorite flowers, so here is this one to rebuild good faith between us.” Daisy opened the box to reveal a diminitive, multipetaled paper flower. It glowed like polished moonstone in the midafternoon sun that filtered through the window of the office. Daisy placed the flower in her palm and held it out to him.

Nielsen was overwhelmed. He had known Daisy since she was nineteen, but they had never exchanged gifts. The flower was so beautiful, so tiny and fragile, that Nielsen was afraid to pluck it from Daisy’s outstreched hand.

“Daisy, its wonderful.” Nielsen reached for the minute blossom; clumsily, his fingers bumped it from Daisy’s hand. It fell to the desk, spiralling down in a flicker of white.

Nielsen and Daisy both reached for the flower; in seconds, the space between them had closed and their hands met over the tiny carnation bloom. Daisy’s gasp rang in Nielsen’s ears as their eyes met. For a moment, their panicked faces were reflected perfectly off the glasses of the other.

Nielsen felt the blood rush to his face as he withdrew his hand. In the moment in which his eyes met with hers, in which he lost himself in the deep caverns and rivulets of ebony and umber that formed her irises, he knew she could sense his feelings for her. They pulled away from one another, and Nielsen could smell the faintly sweet aroma of Daisy’s hair as it follwed the motion of her body.

“Daisy, I’m sorry, I-”

Daisy beamed, and Nielsen lost himself in the contrast between the white of her teeth and the oxblood red of her lips. “It’s okay, Dr. Nielsen. It’s small, its easy to be clumsy.”

Daisy took the flower and placed it gently in its box once more. She left it in the middle of the desk, and in one fluid motion took her backpack from the floor and swung it to her back. Daisy left without saying goodbye, but her scent remained, still on the other side of the desk between them.

Nielsen took the tiny bloom once again in his hands. He lost track of himself in it’s endless intricacies of carved paper and shiny resin. When he next looked up from the flower, it was only because Jay’s voice boomed in the doorway.

“Hey, Roland; did you forget about the departmental meeting today?” Jay’s face– a study of chiseled angles and German features–was sincere, if concerned.

Nielsen gazed at his watch. It had been two hours since Daisy had sat across the desk from him.

capitulo 1:al principio

“I am going to ask you again. When–”

“Please. I can’t tell you anything. I can’t help you.”

“Why can’t you help us, Dr. Nielsen?” A short, slab muscled man stood up from the table. He seemed unimpressed with Dr. Nielsen’s pleading, casually ripping off the cuticle from his own nail and flicking it to the stained concrete floor.  Gomez wasn’t fond of how Peters talked to suspects, but he appreciated having another body in room. Nielsen might be one of those loose-gut science chumps, but the man was still seven feet tall. “Is it because you’re the one who murdered Daisy? Where’d you hide the body? Did you ship it back to the backwater commie country you came from, like some sort of sick hunting trophy?”

“No! Please–Daisy was my student. I could never-”

Gomez slammed a hand down onto the cheap plastic table, making its metal legs wail in shock. “You could never what? Hurt her? That’s pretty funny, buddy, considering the whole department says you were trying to sleep with her.”

Nielsen’s gasp echoed in the ensuing quiet. His eyes, blue and blank, widened as he looked from Gomez to Peters. His broad shoulders slumped–for such a large man, Nielsen had all the body language of a man half his size. Tears began to flow, landing on the plastic table with an aubible tap.


“I never slept with her. It’s true that I loved her, was in love with her, pulled as many strings as I could to keep her safe. But that is my only transgression. I didn’t hurt her.” Nielsen took off his wire-rimmed glasses and wiped his eyes with one gnarled hand. Gomez noticed that Nielsen’s wrists were cris-crossed with tight white scars: some still had the pink inflamation of new healing.

“If you didn’t beef with Daisy, then why did she kick you off her committee? Doesn’t seem normal for a final-year PhD student to shaft one of her core committee members.” Peters stood next to Nielsen: even sitting down, Nielsen was almost as tall as Peters. Gomez stifled a laugh.

Nielsen shivered, and the flow of tears became a steady stream. He took his left thumb and buried it in the opposite wrist. Gomez watched with something like horror as the porcelain skin dimpled, swelled, then began to bleed. “I tried to confront her about her relationship with Jay. I thought that, as her committee member, as her friend, that I could help her or at least talk sense into her. I didn’t know that things between them had gotten so far. I thought their relationship was still something that could still be buried, that what I had seen in the cabin was just a mistake, or a hallucination from heat sickness.” Nielsen twisted his thumb, cutting a bright red welt across his wrist.

Gomez felt his mind begin to race as Nielsen once again scored a deep red welt into his wrist. “Dr. Nielsen, I’m going to have to ask you to put your hands on the table. You have to tell us everything you know.”

Nielsen caught Gomez’s gaze, and for a moment Gomez felt his stomach drop, like peering over the edge of a tall cliff. This man didn’t kill Daisy, but he is in hell, Gomez thought.

Peters sat back down, and Nielsen looked at each man as desperately as a child lost in the supermarket looks at the adults who surround them. Always shrewd, Peters addressed the elephant in the room.

“Dr. Nielsen, if you help us out, we can help you out. We can make sure this little stint in the county jail doesn’t affect your visa renewal. In fact, with a few phone calls, we can enure that you get a green card for life.” Peters ripped off yet another cuticle, letting it drop to the table where it was magnified to grotesque size by Nielsen’s tears.

Gomez reached out and placed a hand on Nielsen’s shoulder, in awe of how he was dwarfed by this man but also filled with a deep sense of pity for him. Gomez didn’t know what it was like to be an scientist, but he knew enough to know that between Daisy’s disappearance and rumours surrounding Nielsen’s feelings for her, the giant man had no real choice but to collaborate.

Nielsen reached into his shirt. A locket, designed as an ornate but miniature bird’s cage, appeared in his hand. Nielsen tipped over the bird cage, its door swinging open in a glint of gold fire. A white paper flower, tiny and intricately petaled, tumbled forth. It was so small that Nielsen could barely grip it between the nails of his thumb and forefinger. Nielsen gazed at the diminuative flower, turning it over and over again in his grasp. In that moment, Gomez knew that whatever Daisy had been to Dr. Nielsen, his feelings for her had been real. Whoever had kidnapped Daisy, it wasn’t this giant seated across from him.

“Tell us about what you saw in the cabin, Dr. Nielsen.” Gomez locked eyes again with Nielsen–this time, the blue eyes were elsewhere, dilating in response to a memory Gomez couldn’t see.

“The cabin is not the first time I had my suspicion. It was only the first confirmation of what was happening between Daisy and Jay.” Nielsen tucked the flower delicately back into the locket. The locket burned a sharp yellow in the bright fluorescent lighting.

Nielsen open his mouth, and what began to tumble forth made Gomez shudder. He locked eyes with Peters as the story spiled forth.


The sharp sounds of raucous laughter echoed in the hallway, destroying Nielsen’s concentration the way a bull obliterates all the porcelain in the chinashop. Nielsen looked out his door, frustrated again for the thousandth time this week, by the giggling voices down the hall. One voice was light, crisp, the reverbation of a silver bell in a silent recital hall; the other was deep bass, the sound of a huge tree slamming itself into the forest floor. The voices went from giggles to chittering words in a babbled language that Nielsen couldn’t understand: a sea of vowels and soft consonance to drown in. Nielsen didn’t know what was more maddening: their incessant giggles and chitters, or the fact that this happened every Thursday, for hours.


Another explosion of laughter, the intense cacklings of two hyenas. Nielsen stood up from his desk and decided enough was enough. He had dealt with Jay and Daisy’s absurdly acoustic meetings for almost the entire semester. Final grades were due in two weeks, and Nielsen just wanted enough quiet to finish grading the finals before the end of the day. He loped down the hall to Jay’s office, swinging open the half-closed door unannounced. Impolite people don’t deserve polite entrances, Nielsen thought.


His breath caught in his chest. Daisy was looking up at Jay, practically standing on her tiptoes to place her brown hands on his broad shoulders. Jay still towered over Daisy: while her wide body mirrored his in the breadth of her shoulders and wide spring of her hips, nothing changed the fact that Jay was nearly a foot taller than her. Jay’s thick fingers were wrapped around Daisy’s upper arms: they stood out like thick white stripes against the deep gold tan of her skin. Nielsen felt a deep well of anger blossom within him as he saw Jay pull his lips away from Daisy’s cheek, Jay’s sky blue eyes locked intently on her face.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” Nielsen stepped towards them and grabbed Daisy by the wrist. He pulled her behind him, blocking her from Jay’s view. Jay was tall, but Nielsen was taller by a full head’s worth: the smaller man took a step back.

“Who do you think you are, Roland? You can’t barge into my meeting with a student like that.” Jay snarled. He reached towards Daisy, but Nielsen pushed his hand away.

“Who am I? I think I’m the professor who is about to report you for misconduct. I just saw you with my own eyes kissing a student.” Nielsen felt Daisy trying to worm from his grip, but with how he towered over her, it felt more like the slightest tug against him: the feeling of walking through a spiderweb and feeling its silken tendrils brush past skin.

“Dr. Nielsen, please, this is a cultural misunderstanding. Please don’t yell at Jay. I’m not upset.” Her voice was small and sweet, and it trembled like a leaf in the wind. Nielsen let go of her wrist and turned to look at Daisy. He was met by her upturned round face, her skin as golden as her face was round. Tears glinted on her high cheekbones and thick black eyelashes as she began to cry. “Please don’t report Jay–he didn’t do anything wrong.”

Gazing into the deep umber of her eyes, Nielsen felt his resolve disappear. He kept his back to Jay, but knelt at Daisy’s feet. Now that he was looking up at her, he could feel a familiar warmth bloom in the space between them. Daisy had been his student long before she had come to this PhD program, and their current position-him kneeling before her as she cried-filed him with nostalgia.

“Daisy, you don’t have to lie to me. You can tell me the truth. I can help you.” These words, too, were familiar. Nielsen hoped they rung as true to Daisy now as they had when he had first said them to her during her undergraduate career. Back then, her lies had been around her delicate health. Now, it seemed they were about something much darker.

Daisy smiled, her teeth a string of nearly translucent pearls behind the red lacquer of her lips. “Dr. Nielsen, this is how Latinos say goodbye when we are friends. I promise. Jay was just doing right by me. He knows I miss my people.” She sidestepped around him, and went to stand with Jay. He didn’t move, not even when Daisy wrapped her arm around his. Jay’s heart-shaped lips were trembling, and Nielsen grew worried: perhaps he had let his protective instincts run amok and destroyed what little professional relationship he’d had with Jay.

“Daisy, promise.” Although he had turned to face them equally, he kept his eyes on Daisy. Her gaze never left his, and he noticed that her irises had flecks of a bright red-brown around her pupils.

“Dr. Nielsen, I promise. Roland, please. Everything is okay.” Daisy finally broke their shared gaze and turned to look at Jay. Nielsen finally stood up to meet Jay’s gaze, and felt rage spring up in his chest. Had this been another time or a different place, Nielsen would’ve brought Jay to task for such a disrespectful look.

Daisy sensed the electric shock between the three of them, and now she placed her broad body between the two men. Her comparative short stature made this an almost comical move, but it swayed something in inside Jay. His gaze softened and his mouth widened into a smile. He playfully swatted Nielsen’s shoulder.

“Hey, Roland, no harm no foul, right? We all get a little culture clashed sometimes. Spending a decade in Ecuador has me thinking this whole kiss thing is super normal! I’m sorry if I made you think something was amiss.” While Jay’s voice was jovial, Nielsen understood the subtely of his body language–the stiff legs and rigid spine. While there may not be something unprofessional afoot, Nielsen was certain that he had seen something that Jay would’ve rather kept hidden from the world.

“I’m sorry for barging in like that. I came in to ask you both to keep the noise down, and I overreacted to what I saw. I guess that is why we knock on doors, eh?” Nielsen struggled to smile; lying had never been his strong suit.

“No worries. But if you don’t mind, I do have to finish my meeting with Daisy–this interlude reminded me of something I had to say.” Jay put his hands on his hips as Daisy turned back to sit on the chair in the middle of the office.

“Right. Sorry again.” Nielsen tried one last time to catch Daisy’s gaze, to gauge if this had been one huge performance on her part or not, but her face was firmly fixated on the strand of hair she was braiding.

Nielsen left the office, but let himself linger outside the view of the door for a few moments. He heard Jay and Daisy begin to chitter in their shared language again. It sounded almost like birdsong, soft and ululating. He wanted to peer in again, to see if the desk was really between them, if Jay was really keeping his hands to himself, if the way Nielsen looked at Daisy was the same way Jay looked at her. He almost couldn’t stand the thought of Jay’s thick fingers around her arms, or in Daisy’s thick waves of brown hair.

Nielsen’s phone rang, and it blew his cover. The chittering stopped as surely as the wave of noise stops when closing the door of a nightclub, and the sound of Jay’s chair scraping against the floor told Nielsen it was time to go. He ran into his office, and sat down just in time to hear Jay’s office door slam shut.

Nielsen bit his lip in frustration as he let the phone ring. Daisy had seemed so sure of her explanation, so like she was telling the truth. But if that were true, why did Jay act as if he knew he had been caught doing something wrong?

As the phone began to chime again, Nielsen finally answered it. It was his wife, calling to remind him that tonight was in fact the night of dinner with her parents and that he was, in fact, supposed to be there. Nielsen checked his watch. He was already late.


As Nielsen scrambled out the door and down the hallway, he noticed Jay and Daisy walking arm-in-arm into the elevator. As he walked by, just as the door began to close, he saw Jay kiss Daisy’s forehead. Nielsen tried to double back, but the door clattered shut before he could make it. As he debated meeting them on the ground floor, his phone began to chime again.

*************************a continuacion el proximo Domingo************************


a secret?

hey, listen

blue eyes beautiful

you can’t hide


not yourself, not your feelings, not your thoughts


hey, listen

blue eyes beautiful

you can’t hide


not the shaking of your voice, not the quivering in your hands, not the crumbling of your thoughts


hey, listen

blue eyes beautiful

please don’t hide


can’t you see that I am hooked on every thought, every motion of your hands, and every shaken word

that tumbles out

from your perfect peachen pout?




everytime I think I am finally old enough

have finally done enough work with people unlike you

have finally walked or biked or flown around the world far enough

everytime I think I have impressed every other white man with blue eyes enough

to forget everything about you


to forget every moment of hot-faced shame or every stomach dropping moment

where you all looked at me,

laughing with those perfect white teeth pulled back to talk about how much I suck


everytime I think I’ve escaped the shadow of all those memories

of thinking I could just sit on the jetty, on the cool black stones until

the bioluminescent sea carried me away


everytime everytime everytime

you come rushing back to me,


or really, I come falling back to you

like the day the sand disappeared from beneath my feet

and suddenly I was drowning in the freezing sea

nothing but sightless soundless blue water above me


desperately crying for help

each wide mouth scream filling my lungs with crystalline pain

eyes flowing their own tiny sea until the salt seared them shut

limbs thrashing desperate for a hold on something, someone


until the waves flung me back onto the sand

reeling and retching and crying

for everyone to see.


hold me tight (or don’t)

hold me tight

(or don’t)

this isn’t that song, you know

you can’t just peep and pick and choose

the pieces of my latinity that you’ll worship to infinity

you either hold me tight

(or don’t)


this isn’t that movie, you know

you can’t just say you love

my brown skin my black eyes my sacred hair my divinity

just to reject the traumas you can’t fetishize into something you can own

you either hold me tight

(or don’t)


this isn’t that book, you know

you can’t just spend everyday

listening for hours about the million ways I’m nothing like you

just to dismiss this halfway house of an identity the minute your whiteness can’t save it

you either hold me tight

(or don’t)


So either hold me tight with a body nothing like mine

(or don’t)

If this isn’t how our story goes then say so

there’s a million stories in my culture that tell me exactly what you’ll do

I’ll keep a candle lit for you, because what else is love for but forgiving men like you

But I hope the distance between us cuts you like a knife

the next time you either hold me tight

(or don’t)





al otro lado de la pared

on the other side of the wall

that plexiglass fortress that keeps you

sequestered away in that little office of yours

complete with windows barred in rusted iron

there’s a million sounds to reverberate the air


there is

the sound of your tongue


against your teeth when you talk


there is

the sound of my feet as I skitter over to you


a baby’s footsteps on the hard corporate carpet


there is

the sweet serious baritone of your laugh


honey flowing from deep in that broad chest of yours


there is

the sound of wounds healing the


of your hand on my back the


of your fingers in my hair the

softest thud


of my chin on your shoulder when we hug the

prosaic hum of our bodies falling into safe rhythms



all these million sounds to reverberate the air

in front of that red-iron barred window

where you’re sequestered away in that office of yours

a tiny fortress of gleaming plexiglass to keep you

on the other side of the wall.