Super Bowl LX: BENITO

Meaning the Boricua, not the brutish brain that argued Everything
in the State, nothing outside the State, nothing against the State;
meaning the man of the island outside US borders but not outside
US possession, the descendant of sugarcane and starshine whose songs
spin the globe the way a despot wishes they could. Despacito, I think,
a fitting word for this slow romance with revolution building from the first
term through the second, propaganda-addled gringo minds baffled by such
rich displays of complexion and community at the midpoint of a dangerous 
game played on a grid like Stratego, [speaking in Spanish] screen-crawling 
on the closed caption as the concert carries on. But the eyes hear splendor 
soundly, and open hearts know no mistranslation if spoken to from the heart. 
Lo comprendo todo because love is my native language, and I’d be fluent 
in freedom if fully immersed. ¡Dios mio!—the sensation in my hips could set 
the world ablaze if it overtook my hands; part of me prays I’m in San Juan when.