Extinct

A butterfly, lost, now found.

The species was introduced to a time
and place where it can live.

Careful instruction given to it,
as to how to survive.

Will it live or fly,
or possibly die?

The Fairy Tale

I had a real witch for a step-mother.

Does that make me a fairy tale princess or queen?

I think a spell was cast upon me and I slept for
ten years.

Does that make me Sleeping Beauty with hair not so fair?

How does the world of kingdoms will last for eternity
translate into now?

Does Heaven's Kingdom with a King of Eternal love
to bow,

accept me as His own?

Yes.

Peace

Not the Middle East,
not Harlem,
or the scary truths inside
of me.

Peace like renewal
of space and time.

Making others to
receive my moment in time.

Aunty Cinnamon

They compared my skin to theirs.
They are Chinese and I am Mexican,
but our skin was both brown.

Maybe the Filipino brought out the sun
in their heritage?

Maybe the fields of rice, worked in
China came down
and kissed them on the cheek.

I tried to stay white,
influenced by years or
summers seeing field workers
burnt in the lettuce fields of
Salinas and Monterey.

I did not want to be Mexican then,
chose the light-skinned Spanish description
of my forefathers.

The one my abuelita aspired to though
darker than I.

Mestizo heritage has duality,
choices of where to conform.

I was burned in Texas,

sunburned with those who cross the
border for a new life.

Now I add layers of brown,
until tan lines define me
who I am,
as the Aunty Cinnamon
foretold by the little
girls who compared my
skin to theirs so
long ago.