mango juice

By: Magda Werkmeister

mango juice drips from my fingers seeps into the brown dirt dirt that holds roots that reach across countries roots that stitch together centuries roots that spread and cannot be confined mango juice drips from my fingers plunges to the earth earth my mother raced across earth that felt the weight of bombs decades ago but the shrapnel still rains mango juice drips from my fingers plummets to the ground ground my predecessors coaxed ground that proffered flor de izote proffered resting places for the collateral mango juice drips from my fingers soaks into the soil soil that holds my cousin once removed removed from life by an agent’s bullet abuelita mentions this offhandedly mango juice muddies the ground falls onto the heads of conquistadors mixes with blood and semen and amniotic fluid mango juice soaks my mother’s hands spills onto the floor prison-sanctuary of 1979 mango juice drips from my fingers i am an infant abuelita is glad my skin is light abuelita is glad my brother’s hair is chocolate i cannot condone i cannot condemn abuelita talks of her abuela blonde hair blue eyes cruel cruel cruel mango juice drips from my fingers i feel the ripples always