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
