I am the first and second of the sixth and the first
The daughter of Raine and Art
Grandchild of Yvonne and Jacinta
Born on the 28th evening of the 1,985th October
to the tribes of Judah and Ephraim
to stand tall in my femininity on the shoulders of my cacique ancestresses
21 years later
I fell in love with the lie
And the truth could barely recall my existence
Sat in the corner with growth and got high of it's offering
Rocked back and forth in the dim light, praying for contrasts
that I'd be wrong
If love always became failure, was I born to be fooled?
And to learn from that,
to warn future fools
to dogde my fears, and call that wisdom.
Was I born to be cared about
to then change minds
to then live for weeks in the fog
then to discover the once nonexistent
and then exist for the rest of my life validating my ignorance with wounds?
Was I born to save myself for the mythical husband
who works the 9-5
and comes home to eat my pollo frito at the head of the table
and lay with him at night
spooning with the archetype
while he's dreaming of his own?
Was I born to walk this plank
basquing in the rays coming through the stainglass windows
bouncing off my sequins
giving the impression that I've reached womanhood
while my brothers look at me
hoping for the best and planning for the worst?
Was I born only to sit pretty before his company,
shit out his children,
swallow his infedelity with a grain of salt and a pinch of oh well and a little nevermind
& iron my pleats & his
& wash my socks & his
& make my sandwich & his
& wipe my crumbs & his
at this pivotal point, where shit
means nothing and everything
I've been pushed into this black hole of floating
grandfather clocks and ottomans
So I'm born to dare-
and kiss passionately
and rest my legs on his shoulders
while we pretend to be so focused
and my thoughts don't wander
with the sweat streaming down my body
That if all is fair in love and war
Then as much as I deserve to be loved, I must stomach the fall.
-Roni I'naru
