Let your irrelevance to me wash over you:

Feel it like rain in your hair, like drops water on your nose and shoulders, let it puddle at your feet. 

I’ve long since said everything I had to say about you and then elected to never say another word. Except for this: my life was made sweeter by your nothingness and absence, so I protect it. 

They say, speak of the devil & he’ll appear. So when someone mentions you now, I raise a finger: it’s beyond me. It’s none of my business, not even when it’s about a cross word you’ve spoken against me. 

Outside of a botanica in Caguas, my dad said we should turn in a circle three times so dark spirits wouldn’t follow us. When someone mentions you, I turn three times to keep you gone. I salt my threshold. I give praise for your banishment.

When you learn to keep my name out of your mouth, there will be only the salt left from the rainwater. I’ll gather it silently and draw a single line of salt at the door.