The Acentos Review

Siempre Más

I think home might be in my palms.
I think they hold some type of warmth in their blood,
like the warmth of Jalisco or Rio.
But here they are, not grasping warmth,
alive in another winter that is too long,
my hands that keep yearning.
 
“Más por favor, más”
Quiero más, siempre más.
 
Turn me into a monarch butterfly,
something that travels
something that keeps
 
Decomposing.
 
Wings emerge from the Earth,
Remember where to fly,
before they have memory.
 
I used to detach wings from dragon flies,
Put them to the light
To create my own stained glass windows,
wondering where they had been
and where I’m going.
 
Here I don’t see many dragonflies.
My hands can’t cultivate stained glass,
Do not  know the warmth of cultivating windows.
Pero, estoy aqui.

Xavi 

Xavi was here last week
he started a poem
where he mentioned
a tree
with a circle of bricks around it
 
I don’t know if the tree blossomed
or if it was tall
or just finding its roots
 
All I know is that the tree is still in Southwest Detroit
and Xavi is not
I wanted him and all our people
to live by a tree
with a circle of bricks around it,
where ever they want
 
I want Xavi in Detroit
or wherever his body chooses
I want Xavi to feel safe
to have home
be wherever he chooses
 
It wouldn’t be the borders to decide
it would just be Xavi and his tree
reminding us we are all just growing
in a circle
 
Here we can grow together
here we don’t have to worry about la migra
or the language abuela is speaking
or how thick an accent is
here Xavi can be Xavi
a 12 year old boy
round up his people for joy
not to be transported
 
Here Xavi can go anywhere
with his tree
and bricks placed around to form a circle