by Paola Ruval
Illustrations by Sarah Belle Lin
I saw you once more
under the hot blazing
unforgiving sky
standing behind those
blooming iron diamonds
whose shadows fail to hide you
Your eyes pierced out from behind
the dark cool lines
that cut your face into pieces
they whisper “Mírame”
I want to look away in shame
By then, the folds of my hands begin to unwind
blood drips deep from my fingertips
painting virgin roses on the floor
that glimmer bright without remorse
Smiling the roses rise from the dirt
fighting cruel sun rays,
they climb the traces of my veins
thorns against my knees I stand
as they sway away to familiar sounds
They dance my mother’s native tongue
I know every gentle syllable
I jump between their world of words
to understand my Tata’s laughter
to guide strangers under harsh fluorescent lights
to tell my grandmother I’m alright
Now I know you
you are a part of me.
we live among divided lands
you lie beyond the parted grounds
grounds lined with shiny rusty iron diamonds
that grew strong and tall from fear and hatred
I’ll never fully comprehend you
you’ll never fully know me
But we shall meet on crowded humid church afternoons
singing “Paloma Blanca”
on summer days watching Pedro Infante, Cantinflas
Tata’s favorites
under Cielitos Lindos
rushing for Piñata candy
unaware of its cultural difference
Until realizing that parts of us
in some of us
Chicanx’s or just Mexicanos Americanos
hold remnants of those virgin roses
those glimmering pieces of our culture
So I’ll walk with these thorns
soft petals, and lovely skies
to keep you close to me
Because although
I may never fully
be you
know you, or
understand you
You will always be a part of me.