I am from braided hair entwined with ribbons
from the warm cup of champurrado filling the air with chocolate and cinnamon
I am from the view of the Statue of Liberty to my left and the Manhattan skyline to my right
I am from the marigold fields
The bright orange petals falling on the floor,
leading the dead back to the living
I am from “hay más tiempo que vida”
With an all knowing smile over the decorated altar and graves
I am from Leticia and Marcelo and Escamillas
I am from the warmth love and sacrifice of those before me and the ones alongside me now
I am from the “si se puede”
and the “echale ganas mijita”
I am from the holy water poured over my small head
The bread and wine from his body and blood
The choirs singing voices of La Guadalupana
The Catholic Sunday school prayers ending in amen
Although I rarely go now
I am from the city that never sleeps, lights and noise filling up the night
and from the mountains of Puebla, the deep, dry valley of what once belonged to the Zapotec people
From the sweet cactus fruit, pitaya, and the chocolate flavor mole
From the young love of my grandparents married under the heated sun
To the middle school love of my parents sneaking away under the midnight moon
I am from the flowers in the living room, fading and blooming all at once
The handcrafted, painted clay statues brought from the motherland
The pictures on the walls showing the beginning of our lives, and waiting to be filled with the middle and the end.
