I think I'm trying to write about Mexico--about the colors, the smells, the sounds. But I was only there one day, last spring. Mexico holds magic over me. Spanish syllables weave a spell over my brain and body.
Trying to write about it, well, that just makes me incredibly sleepy. I wish I could capture, in words, the thoughts that sift through my head. But they are like water. Transluscent and evading capture. They become black muddles on paper... if even that.
Meanwhile, my little black Mexican cat, Viscosa, meows and nibbles at my toes wanting onto my lap to be pet and whispered to. Yes, she is my little Mexico. She makes me sleepy too.
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