take a breath

for Lindsey and all my mixed wo(men)

you caught my
sighs and they jumble tumbled
and fed them back/ground up to me

spicy chicken
lovely, folded
into potsicker wraps

we are everything at once
and so, in their country/culture
nothin’ much.

we so far from packing
in boxes
that we walk our roads, light
packages piled from our crowns to the clouds.

there are many words for women like us
and they are not, um…flattering

so we grind up the definitions
between survival and exile
and make it a dialectic

fuck resilience, we dig with our hands

and find one another
teeth glinting
as we dance huddled
to the dark pockets
of our/own cities.

la mission

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