whatever you’d like

May 25, 2017

we always thought we were gonna’ have a girl. La Nena. we had picked her name out much quicker than the boys’. so when we learned that we were having two boys something shifted. there was a sadness. i can’t deny that. not that i wasn’t happy to have whatever we were getting, just that i wanted a girl because well, i’m a girl. and i wanted to raise a strong girl. independent. luchadora. bad ass. rockstar. queen. bruja. that was gonna’ be our girl, Luna was her name…

“it’s two boys,” said the radiologist as she pointed to it’s genitals and typed the word “boy” with an arrow pointing directly at its penis. that was when i had “that” moment. the one where shit gets real real. we have to raise two boys… two boys. who have two moms. who happen to be Latinxs. who happen to be queer. in a world that seems to be tearing at the seams. in a world that just on your genitals alone have placed an exaggerated, ridiculous amount of expectations on you that are unrealistic and just dumb. fucking stoopid’.

i’ve been guilty of some of those expectations. it’s the environment i grew up in. that “boys will be boys” bullshit. i’m working on changing that every day. so i am already thinking about a few things. if you are indeed cisgendered males, know that i have no clue whatsoever about your body parts except what i know from my education as a nurse and the few, often negative encounters with male bodies i may have had. but i trust that you are here to teach me a thing or two. i also believe you’re here to heal me around some of those not-so-pleasant experiences.

it’s not at all about your body but, because of your body society will make you think you have to “act a certain way.” please pay no attention to the distractors from Self Love. your body is simply your vessel. the temple in which your soul resides in this time and space.

discover the many parts of you. pink is for everyone. you can play with dolls. you can dance. you can cry. you can have long hair. you can paint your nails. you can wear whatever you’d like (though trust that i will check you before you walk out the door and make adjustments if needed. porque utede’ no pueden ta’ andando’ por ahi como loco tampoco). you don’t have to be strong. you don’t have to know about cars or sports. you can throw out the trash AND you can do the dishes.

you have brown skin. your names will be mispronounced. this has so many implications, most of them terrifying, so please be mindful of all of your actions because even your inactions are bound to set something in motion. usually, that motion is against you. stand firm in who you are. especially in moments of injustice.

you have two moms. so you also got that. which we think is pretty cool. and someone may have a thing to say about that. pero tu los mandas pal’ carajo and keep it moving. do not waste your time arguing with mojones que no cojen cabeza. i do promise you that you will have very positive male role models around you. and you will know that it takes a village and Our Village is beautiful and big and strong and they Love you.

we have so much to learn from each other. and i will do my best to be my best self for you both. and i promise you that i will honor and respect whatever you discover about yourself along the way,  i will encourage and provide all the support i can. and my only expectation of you is that you be your genuine Selves, wherever you may stand. there will be no boxes to put you in. you are perfectly made.

still, imma’ raise two bad asses. two brujos. two conjurers of justice. two respectful humans. two luchadores.

you are the painters of your canvass. i will be your easel.

#52weeks2017

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carta para mi madre

May 12, 2014

a mi madre en la ocasión de mis 36 primaveras,

gracias por juntarte con el viejo. y enredarse. y entrelazarse en un Amor tan bello. pues fue el regalo de ese Amor que se abrió para darme vida.

gracias por velar sobre mi. por la curita’ que tanto me hacia creer que sanaba cualquier herida. gracias por los juguetes. por aquellos sacrificios que nunca sabré hiciste. gracias por las noches de desvelos. por los sobresaltos. gracias por darme aquel último bocado de tu boca, porque yo quería un poco mas. gracias por la ropa y los zapatos (aquellos que tanto detestaba ponerme). gracias por tus abrazos. por protegerme. a veces hasta de ti.

gracias por creer en mi. en mis sueños. por dejarme explorar. por alimentar mis curiosidades. por darme alas.

gracias por los desacuerdos. por los momentos de tensión. por los desacuerdos. porque fueron esos momentos donde sin saberlo, más nos acercábamos.

hoy celebro mi vida como una extension de la tuya. y aunque sigo mi propio rumbo, lleva esencia de ti. lleva características tuyas: esfuerzo, empeño, valor, fe, resistencia, espíritu luchador…

de tu vientre llevo aquello flujo que no deja de protegerme. aun fuera de ti, sigo adentro.

ya sabes, si tuviese que nacer de nuevo: solo de tu vientre, solo de tu sangre, solo de tu Amor.

te amo.

tu hija. siempre.

rie y descansa

May 9, 2014

a mil millas de distancia…

en tu casa. en aquel sillón
en el mismo sitio donde te deje.
con el recuerdo de aquel beso abrazando mi mejilla.

yo queria seguir jugando a las locuras contigo.

y es que contigo Manita, yo vuelvo a ser niña
jugando a la imaginación sin pensar que esta vida
me llama a ser adulto y tener responsabilidades
que se hacen monótonas y aburridas… hasta hartan!.

y nos hacen olvidar que la vida es solo un momento.

ese momento donde puedes cantar a toa’ boca
una canción fuera de tono, sin importar quien nos escuche
o como luzcamos, porque lo que importa es la risa y la sonrisa.
lo que importa es el momento donde puedes, tan solo por un instante
vivir en la alegria.

mientras nuestro hermano (tan tranquilo el doroteo’),
apoya nuestras locuras y nos mira de reojo como quien dice,
“lo que me ha tocado.” el también me enseña una lección: el descanso
que hay en la paz. el me enseña la importancia del silencio. de tomar
un receso del ajetreo de la vida.

son ustedes dos un regalo del Universo.
son un recuerdo importante de reír y descansar
para darle vida a la vida.


en tu casa. en aquel sillón
en el mismo sitio donde te deje.
con el recuerdo de aquel beso abrazando mi mejilla.

yo queria seguir jugando a las locuras contigo…
y luego descansar con nuestro Hermano.

blessed birth day

February 9, 2013

blessed be the day God gave light to your eyes.
when She picked up Her finest brush
and stroked that beautiful smile above the dimple on your chin
…the Universe dipped into you.

blessed be the day
She filled your lungs with air
so that you may breathe into them, Love.

when God hugged the muscles around your bones
so that you could walk your way into my life,
the roads cleared… the journey began.

blessed be the day
your fingers stretched into the hands
that would eventually hold my heart.

that day, God gathered ‘round the string section
of Her orchestra, She composed the sweet sound of your voice
then gently dropped the beat of your heart onto a dumbek.

blessed be the day
She outlined the fall of your neck
to rest on your shoulders.
She slid the pencil down your back
and drew the very first
exclamation point!

blessed be the day
God helped your mother push
my answered prayer into this world.

i celebrate the gift of your life to this world mi Amor. wishing you health, Love and happiness in abudance.

kissing freckles

December 19, 2012

“that’s my favorite freckle,” she says,
as she turns to another of the many freckles
she’s said that to already,
leans in, and kisses it gently.. tenderly.

she’s just as hopeless a romantic as me
-“cheesy” –some choose to call it. the kind
that leaves Love notes in my wallet
or hidden in my night stand drawer.
fills my inbox with Love songs
or stories about her day.

i nap on her bed
she wakes me up with flowers.

her eyes. her smile.
remind me, that every step towards Her
was worth it. that nothing was ever a mistake.
that i am perfect. whole. and complete.

she Loves the way i Love.
accepts my perfect imperfections
and expects me to be nothing less
and nothing more than who i am.

she reminds me. i am enough.
for me. for her. for us.

she believes in me. sees the woman
i am and Loves her.
forsight.
she sees the woman
i will become and Loves her even more.

she celebrates Me.

she is fully aware of my insecurites,
the stuff i’m working on and working out.
full disclosure from the moment we met…
she has yet to flinch.

solid and grounded. she anchors me.

and i can’t wait ’til the summer,
when the sun multiplies my freckles.

su voz

December 13, 2012

escuche su voz.
en ese instante la reconocí.

sonabas como amanacer de campo,
sonabas a lluvia en las montañas,
sonabas a gallo mañanero.

hola, ¿que tal?
hola tu.
dos horas y seis minutos,
la primera conversación
(de esta vida).
entre risas y cosa pequeñas,
mi corazón se hacia mas grande.

todo tan natural. como rio
camino al desemboque.

me dormí pensando en la dulzura de su voz.
amanecistes en mis cuerdas vocales
como canción de cuna,
tierna y recíen renacida.

queria gritar.

llevo años soñandote.

encontre rastros de usted
en otros amores
pero siempre faltaba mas.

y es que, Usted…
Usted condensa mis deseos
y anhelos en su mirada.
en sus ojos se refleja
mi alegría multiplicada
a la infinita potencia.

y yo caí rendida
en su voz.

carmen

November 9, 2012

…y de la nada, te apareces.

like houdini, poof!

you just show up.
via email.

“hey, how you doing? how’s life? love?”

tal vez no entiendes. que esta no es la relación
que quiero contigo. pues para tener una amistad
se necesitan dos.

one should be available to the other.
at any time. no en secreto como si fuera
lo nuestro un pecado que lleve pena de muerte.

that’s what relationships are, no?
un toma y coge. a give and take.
an, i got yo’ back. estoy aquí pa’ cuando sea.

asi que, cuando quieras una amistad sincera,
show it. y no en un marrrrdito email
que luego borras para que no sepan que aun
te comunicas conmigo.

y no, esto no es poesía.
it’s a direct message to you.
yo estoy vieja ya,
to be playing hide-and-seek.

you dishonor the memory
of the relationship
y me insultas.

a tu “intento” le falta
corazón y coráje.

lift

July 4, 2012

tired of falling
in Love.
(too many bruises)

i want to fly
in Love.
make me forget
there is ground.

fly me so high
my nose bleeds
the fears
right out of me.

i want to breathe the air
right from her soul’s lungs
until my chest expands
and her oxygen pumps
through my veins
filling the air pockets
that constrict my airways.

lift me.

i want to be gone
in her wind.
thrown into thin air.

fly in Love.

loss and gain

i have not lost.

not if i can see what i gained
in the defeat.

***

hold

i held on so tight to the pain,
refusing to let go

because that was all that i had left of you.

***

walk

today, i placed one foot
in front of the other

and started walking towards me.

un-broken

April 24, 2012

i am broken
but i am not shattered.

repairable, in fact.

i am stronger
at the parts
that cracked
because they know, now
how to reconnect.

healing bones,
tendons rebuild,
nerves reconnect.

the broken heal.
the body remembers.
the soul is stronger.

break down,
build up.
the edifice is fortified
reinforced
and forced to realize such wondrous truth:
the body can handle so much… more.

so really,
i am not broken
i am just strengthening the core
of a warrior heart.