Sandfall
I’m told the wind is the keeper of memories
But I don’t even think it knows
When I started bleeding
A young man stands on the shore
Where clockwork waves
Only move with the death of butterflies
Sand swims over his feet
He grabs a handful of the
Loose ground and lets it
Slip into the water
He’s a February child, like me
I can tell from his voice
It falls like heart-shaped snow
I pick up the sand
It brings me back to Cub Scouts
“Don’t worry. We’ll catch you”
I lean back like a baby eagle learning to fly
Gravity does its only routine
Two boys back away from me
My body meets the tile floor
Sand slides out of my grasp
My fingers are frost, born of ice
The shore shows itself again
I don’t think it worked
Half Truths
I didn’t know I spent most of my youth telling half
Truths. I was born under your Floridian sun
Had my first crush witnessed by North Carolina’s Mountains
Held my first library card under the guidance of Tennessee snow
And yet, I’ve always told you I was Mexican
But wasn’t that the answer you wanted?
No. It was the answer you gave me.
But your answer never changed when you heard
You’re not a true Mexican until you can hold your spice
And speak Spanish. You knew I cried, biting jalapenos
And you knew I didn’t speak Spanish, but never smiled
When others said I had an American accent.
Still, you told me I couldn’t be white without an ‘h’ in my name
And I know my color can’t let you label me as passing, like my father
But there was a time when he wasn’t passing. A time when you let
A mother’s accent anoint him as half white and good enough to be a janitor.
And you taught his father the song We Don’t Speak Spanish Here
So how can I learn the lyrics of Latin language when you limit the chorus?
And I still love the textured taste of cut steak and mashed potatoes
You can still hear my hum of ordering hamburgers with fries
I’ve seen you loosen your lips about sun-kissed skin
I’ve heard you hold your tongue over untaught syllables
But you keep quiet when your claimed child peeks
Eyes wandering side to side to the clicking of clocks
Are you legal?