Yovani Flores is an emerging Puerto Rican writer and poet from Chicago, Illinois.

El Llorón” debuted in Chicana/Latina Studies Journal of Mujeres Activas en Letras y Cambio Social (MALCS). Flores received a writing award for “El Llorón” from Curbside Splendor Publishing, which was also featured on NPR: All Things ConsideredThree Minute Fiction. Her poem, “Saliendo del Sueño” was published by Centro Voces, Center for Puerto Rican Studies at Hunter, CUNY.

In 2011, Flores co-wrote and produced the Award Winning short film, Thresholds, a debut film by Las Pilonas Productions.

Las Pilonas presented in Festival Screenings, Q&A panels, educational programming, youth workshops and conferences at MALCS Summer Institute – USCLA, Phoenix College Latino Film Festival, Reel Rasquache Art & Film Fest – Los Angeles, QWOCFF, Long Shadow Film Fest – Phoenix, and One and Ten in Phoenix, Arizona.

In 2012, Flores produced a Photo Journal Video, “Dr. Ana Castillo Visits Tucson Students on Cinco de Mayo.” After the Tucson event, she reviewed the documentary film, “Precious Knowledge” published in La Tolteca .

Enjoy her newest creations combining nature and myth for a series of masks – Coconut Footprints y Afro-Latinidad

Yovani Flores lives, and writes in Phoenix, Arizona.

Contact: floresyv@gmail.com

wela y feliz

como niña guided by tradition
rushing for a second place in line stepping out of my skin
like scared little girls claiming smallness
guided by affection in search of voice en lágrimas de pura sangre
while demons point and laugh and whisper
*you found the wrong person to love again*…

como amiga y amante
con el corazón en la mano te busco
she rose from a five year old dream in my imagined spaces
where truth is hazy with hope and hope is life and death
Latina tongues dipped in rhymes
cleansing my heaviness like crying violins
suspended by threads of laughter between us
I swirl then drown in waves of her curvy brownness
dissolved by weightless tears and salty words that recognize my mouth

como mujer
drawn beyond footsteps left behind thick deep lines
scattered bones fractured
floating like moonlit diamonds
crowning my face with golden dust
as I point and smile and whisper…
I am home.

Abuela – 2012