Giraluna Gil

I didn’t always go by Giraluna Gil. That name came later—when I realized I needed a space that felt fully mine. Something tender and powerful. Something imagined, but rooted.

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Giraluna came from a song by Alí Primera — La piel de mi niña. Just one line, but it stuck. It felt like me. Sunflower and moon. A name with its own gravity.
Gil is from my real name. I kept it as an anchor.

I started writing as a teenager. Not because I wanted to be a poet, but because I needed somewhere to put all the feelings I had no words for yet. Writing gave them shape. And later, it gave me voice.

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When I moved to the Netherlands, that voice changed. It got quieter for a while. But distance does that—it sharpens what matters. That’s when I began writing more in Papiamento. Because I missed it. Because I wanted to hold it.

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Now, I write poetry that explores love, loss, memory, and the Caribbean experience. I write in Papiamento, Spanish, and English—because I live in all three.

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My debut collection, Miel di Abeha, is written in Papiamento.
It’s a love letter. A soft rebellion. A tribute.

This space is where I share what I make. It’s still growing—so am I.
But every word is written to be felt.

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