I wonder what it must’ve been like
For her tongue to wrap itself around
Foreign sounds
white sounds.
Calling her sisters
And telling them she was going to a home
That wasn’t surrounded by mountains
And trees of
Aguacate y Mangos
Tomate de árbol y Plátanos
A home that wasn’t encircled by
Fields of caña de azúcar y café
A home that wasn’t blooming with
Orchids and Magnolias.
But was instead surrounded by
Trees full of bare branches and heartache,
Soil barren with concrete and frustrated dreams,
Kitchen tables ringed with coffee stains and memories.
I wonder what it must have been like
To be chased out of a country
Only to steal into a nation that hated you
For being a victim
Of circumstances set up by that same state.
I wonder what it must have been like to try and
assimilate into the fabric of Middle America
Where barriers of language and skin make
assimilation impossible.
To swear to never have kids
Never go to america
And then eat your words.
I wonder what it must have been like
To give birth to a boy
And have her grow up a girl
To watch her change
Like an artist perfecting their work
Seeing her manifest more fully
Into her body
In ways that might frighten
Her for the realness of it.
I wonder it must be like
To live in ameríca
Having all the comforts that the West can offer
And only want to go back
And eat from the tree
That fed her when she was young.
Life is full of contradictions and
My mother is a strong woman.
Say something, hear something