What It Means To Be Ramos

I am Aztec I am tree person Taking refuge under these leaves Hide me without erasing me Until being Mexican is easy cuando sea libre Not a Baez Not a Kahlo America, accept me for me I am a woman with swollen thoughts tired words, redundant and rewritten over time casi libre We are there to knit together our courage Woven tight, we are each a Latin strand Holding one another when we cannot hold ourselves We have an unspoken understanding Of the pain we have all endured as a people But yet create segregation among our own This world is kind, it’s society who fails To rationalize their thoughts, their actions They leave invisible marks that will never heal Our backs soaked wet in blood not the sea And we bleed out their words from our eyes And dry them on each other as we sharpen our knives I am the gulf and the coast Ramos by day Ramos by night Ramos the familiar Sequoia Our roots deep in the earth Soaking up the sweat and tears and bearing salty fruit