Hermanas Gonzalez. by Be Garcia
I am of a generation of scorned women,
Courted by the heavy hands of lost fathers and lovers.
Betrayed by the natural laws of bloodlines,
Carrying foes inherited by misguided generations.
I am of a bread seeking redemption from crusade-less battles.
Impurified by whips of replaced chains.
Mothers too early, never known by birth givers.
Engraved destines too horrifying to claim as their own.
I am of the daughters, who've circum to distressing magnitudes.
Bestowed with wounds to early given, to late to confess.
Denied truths speak not what frailties lost to memory.
Back stored between the death of healthy lives.
I am of the root which forgets green pastures.
Betrayed by hopes unseen to moral eyes.
I am of Taino, of hot sands, and of rained upon forests.
Which secrets the screams of silenced baby girls.
To whom seeks exchange, I see these inherited histories,
Upon dry veils of sun kissed hides.
I call them my mothers, my aunts, my heart.
For they knew not the penalties of their births.
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