juventina

what can i say?

i didn’t know you:
you are a blur

you had many children,
& they had me

(now i have one of my own)

i have your blood & skin &
non-romantic proclivities;
i have your black eyes &
indian nose

i have your family’s burden to bear

i’d like to think you are a bird,
visiting as your heart believed;
i’d like to think you are with those
you loved in the loving embrace of your savior

i thank you for your stark bodily sacrifices
in this confusing mexican-american narrative:

you tolerated beatings & racism

you were a good cook

(i still miss your enchiladas & tamales)

from your womb you extended the ladder,
albeit decrepit,
with broken rungs

you tolerated evil

you were cute & compact & timid

when you were old:
your tears were heart-breaking

i hope to honour you in this life
but i don’t know what you would have liked,
what had meaning for you?

i invite you into my dreams,
night & day – that i may
commune with you…