tumblericans

I am two parts/a person
boricua/spic
past and present
alive and oppressed
given a cultural beauty
…and robbed of a cultural identity

I speak the alien tongue
in sweet borinqueño thoughts
know love mixed with pain
have tasted spit on ghetto stairways
…here, it must be changed
we must change it

I may never overcome
the theft of my isla heritage
dulce palmas de coco on Luquillo
sway in windy recesses I can only imagine
and remember how it was

But that reality now a dream
teaches me to see, and will
bring me back to me.

—  “Here” by Sandra Maria Esteves