Letter from Frida to Chavela, by Jane Salmons

Frida Kahlo and Chavela Vargas, by Nickolas Muray (USA, b. Hungary). 1945.

 
Letter from Frida to Chavela
 
It’s half past three. 
The garden is soaked in a pool
of blue light.  I can’t sleep.
This morning I looked again
at the photographs you sent.
 
Do you remember cariño
the night we spent on the Zocalo?
We busked with the mariachas 
swigged tequila straight from the bottle
smoked Padilla cigars.
You swaggered with the best
of the boys, warmed the brown earth
with your gravel laugh,
wore a man’s suit beneath your jorango
(how we howled!)
a pistol slung low on your hip.
 
Diego sends his love, by the way.
Wonders when you’ll visit us next?
He’s a new fresco on the go.
I haven’t been painting much.
 
My dear doctor says
I’m to have a bone graft next month.
My thirtieth operation, you know.
 
Do you remember cariño
how we clutched our bellies with laughter,
rolled like armadillos across the flagstones
at Coyoacan, our art our armour
against my broken body, your years of loss?
 
What you never knew
is that as the sun rose
I swept a vine of Mexican Flame
through your hair, breathed lover’s words
into the kiss point of your neck.
Mi rareza, hurry back.
 
Jane Salmons

Jane Salmons is a teacher living and working in Stourbridge in England.  She is currently studying an MA in Creative Writing and has had poems published in various online magazines including Ink, Sweat and Tears, and Algebra of Owls.  Aside from writing poetry, in her precious free time she enjoys photography and creating handmade photomontage collage.