A collection of writings

La niña negra gringa

She decided to take a last minute flight to México City. All she wanted was to be alone for a few days to recover. She’s staying in an old, richly hued flat in el centro de la ciudad, anxious about going outside with such shitty Spanish. Her comprehension and vocabulary were never the best, but she spoke con estilo and usually figured out the rest. Just don’t say too much and you won’t fail the test. But at last, her anxious mind convinced her to stay inside. Just hide.

La niña negra gringa tells herself that there’s nothing wrong with spending her first night in, drowning the truth in music blaring from her iphone mini. She came here to “recover”, after all and going outside took too much gall.

Palms resting on the window sill, head resting on her hands, she admires how the setting sun enriches such ancient land. Breathing in a loving sense of solitude despite being filled with Black feminine rage. Her freckled nose is just shy of the sun’s dim light while she holds herself hostage in what has now become a cage. Strobes of orange braided with pink glide across her exposed shoulder, illuminating where her heart beats. She feels that embrace deeply, for the sun is a woman and so is its father. So, la niña negra gringa reminds herself not to let thoughts become a bother. The sun will rise again so she looks forward through her sorrow. For tomorrow is a new day to rise and try again.

Aquí, in México City, la niña negra gringa reflects on, dwells on, and ultimately questions who she is. Someone who feels so many emotions, coming and going as they please. She wonders if her father felt the same, coming and going as he pleased. A ser humana and not understand what it means to fully be. In el centro de la ciudad she cracks open the window to let in a city breeze. Life here is busy at night so she gathers her journal, pens and some snacks, anticipating the sights that she will see.

Here, behind the glass, la niña negra gringa stays in for the night contemplating how on earth she came to be.

Will she ever break free? In time we shall see.

Hunter’s Medicine

That?
There?
Well that's an
Eastern swallowtail
It won't land
It won't stay idle for long
Always searching for
blooming strawberries
Easily catching attention
Never admired
fully
A hunter
Much like you

12 days later

the swallowtail lays down

for eternal rest

12 years later

your heels are torn up flesh

So elders watching from

the ethers remind you

that

worn out souls
find refuge
in the praxis of
arriving and
remaining

that

building brick by brick

builds better boundaries
and

that
boundaries birth

benevolence

Benevolence
births strawberries so sweet
from years of ripening

and

the desire to indulge
seduces you
knowing you will devour
all that is offered

Spreading seeds as you

walk through tall grasses

with sweet flesh
falling from your chin

Surrounded by fluttering swallowtails

and a happiness birthed

from deep within.