at five years old, I learned that white girls

were made of pastels, sugar and everything nice

boys were constructed of blue snips, slimy snails

and smelly, puppy dog tails

at seven, I learned that Barbie was beautiful, Barbie was fashionable,

Barbie had a lot of clothes, a plastic car and a dream house

Barbie was white/Barbie had blonde hair/Barbie had blue eyes

but Tonka trucks and fast motorcycles and even faster, plastic cars

were for tomboys and boys who were loud and boisterous

rough, courageous and brave

at nine I learned that sobbing dramatically

was part of the feminine mystique

and boys were, never, ever to cry

even when broken

at thirteen I learned that a pretty, white girl could get away

with ritual murders and character assassinations

of the un-popular/un-pretty/graceless/brown girls

while demurely, smiling gracefully

at the manly, strutting, pubescent boys

at fifteen, I learned the clique had replaced Barbie & her dollhouse, plastic car

the big, fake, blonde-from-a-bottle hair and white skin

and going to second base with mobs of manly boys, was frowned upon

unless one was a bad/trashy/nasty girl/or a brown girl

like me

the kind of girl, the prune-faced, old ladies whispered about

at seventeen, I knew that station in life

was critical

accouterments of furs and diamonds, real houses and un-plastic cars

blonde hair, blue eyes and tanned white skin

were signs of good breeding

math and science were for boys and geeky girls

and maybe, some lucky, brown girls

like me

at twenty-one my white friend was captured, married and caged

with those diamonds and furs

real houses and un-plastic cars

by her manly, pubescent boy

at thirty, she was tired of his shit

and society’s expectations

at forty, she bought her own damn condo

a hybrid, electric car

and found out what it was to be free, a true friend

and she finally wanted to be like me

I lay nestled in the outspread Navajo blanket

the soft sounds of the evening echo around me

the earth beneath

feels warm and comforting

in the hollow

I have made for myself.

Although expectant

my body and mind are still

as the sun makes its colorful exit

salmon pinks, desert yellows and serge blues

bloom and merge in its fallen trail

as the night encroaches.

At the denouement

slowly I rise

fold my blanket

imprinting the evening show

in my mind.

Some have scientific reasoning -

theories of charged particles,

plasma and positive ions

to explain and elucidate what I see

but I know

that I live where the sky

in its beauty

touches the land

and me.

spicy peppery provocative biting thoughts,

diverse duality nuanced contextual nature,

rich butterscotch freckled aging skin,

rounded mango once exotic now middle aged flesh,

sharp tangy tartly witty repartee,

hazel golden jaded tinged eagle eye gaze,

laughing fighting shared memories sibling rivalry,

warm milky powdery protective Shalimar perfumed mother book reading hugs and kisses forever the puppy dog tails boy’s abuelita,

seeking the divine secularly godless righteous ritual breaking,

confidante close faithful comedic chosen sister friend lover hater,

grief stricken bleak joyous tribe-less ethos complex sapient,

empathic outraged defiant middle finger upraised

writer story-teller singer poet survivor

I am.