With new Eyes

Sometimes I leave in the middle of a poem

I let my mind ferment

Bask in my heart

Glide with silence

And my return becomes a new arrival

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Of love

You smell of earth and taste of warmth

I think my ancestors sent you to me.

 

Daughter to Father

I am your daughter
growing wild, and high.
I am your legacy, the wounds of our ancestors, your struggle in my bones.
The tears you cried, the nights you worked, the racism that hurt you, the language you struggle to speak, the dreams you gave to me.
I am your daughter
growing so high, it was you that taught me how to rise.
Your legacy–“vale la pena.”

-words to my father