For the color of my Mother

I am a white girl gone brown to the

blood color of my mother

speaking for her through the unnamed

part of the mouth the wide-arched

muzzle of brown women

at two

my upper lip split open

clear to the tip of my nose

it spilled forth a cry that would not

yield

that travelled down six floors of

hospital

where doctors wound me into white

bandages

only the screaming mouth exposed

the gash sewn back into a snarl

would last for years

I am a white girl gone brown to the

blood color of my mother speaking for

her

at five,

her mouth pressed into a seam

a fine blue child’s line drawn across her

face

her mouth, pressed into mouthing

english

mouthing yes yes yes

mouthing stoop lift carry

(sweating wet sighs into the field

her red bandana comes loose from

under the huge brimmed hat

moving across her upper lip)

at fourteen, her mouth

painted, the ends drawn up

the mole in the corner colored in darker

larger mouthing yes

she praying no no no

lips pursed and moving

at forty-five, her mouth

bleeding into her stomach

the hole gaping growing redder

deepening with my father’s pallor

finally stitched shut from hip to

breastbone

an inverted V

Vera

Elvira

I am a white girl gone brown to the

blood color of my mother speaking for

her

as it should be dark women come to me

sitting in circles I pass through their

hands

the head of my mother painted in clay

colors

touching each carved feature swollen

eyes and mouth

they understand the explosion the

splitting open contained within the

fixed expression

they cradle her silence

nodding to me

De: MORAGA,C.,&ANZALDÚA,… Leer más