Stefanie DeMaria Febus

Inherited Rhythms

You hold out your hand and

might just assume

from the slope of my body

that these hips inherited rhythm

like all Puerto Ricans can dance.

I curse that my mom’s absence

made me a no good Latina.

A fake Boricua

Moving like broken Spanish-

failing to call home.

I spin away and make sure

that you don’t see my spiral.

Avoiding tangled roots,

unanchored and shallow.

They feel more like vines

from our island that still claims us—

Still claims me

through those lingering tethers

that keep me bound

even if I’ve never been.

But you pull me against you

and away from presumptions 

that were never yours, but mine alone.

You call me, Mamita, I’m all aglow

and we’re both just castaways

who have just found home

in the arms of our history

and inherited intimacy

Surviving distance and time.

So I’ll try this for you.

Wear my glittering fragments,

Sing my imperfect Spanish,

Salsa like nobody’s watching for you.

As long as you hold me,

I’d hold on

until the world stopped spinning...

Even though I spin the wrong way,

and crash into your chest

like that wave at Cerro Gordo 

you swore you could jump.

You won’t let me fall.

You can try, but

I’m still falling.

Unlearning for Two

I look into the mirror 

and ask if I’m a skinny bitch yet.

It’s spoken by the voice that is a daily effort to silence.

Born from doctors who grabbed stomach rolls, 

middle school boys who rated me a five.

It was in the body of every small woman

I didn’t know if I wanted to bed or wanted to become.

In how every man I dated always had something to say

that caused crack after jagged crack in my stained glass spirit.  

Taking back power is the fight of my life 

and I can’t say the vitamins of girl power and moxie have left me healed.

Those demons still linger and whisper their nonsense in every fitting room mirror

that has seen more shameful tears than I’d like to admit.

But this is not a legacy I’ll allow my baby girl to inherit. 

Nor is it a life I deserve to live. 

If every part of my child can be sacred

and worthy of a million lifetimes of love-

then so can I.