Self Portrait
She smelled of Abuelita hot chocolate
Rich and dark and spiced with cinnamon
Always took up more than her fair share of room
Hips swaying back and forth like they were playing tag with the wind
Humming like a chime on your grandmothers porch
She was peach tea and nectarines under a Havana sun in a hammock hung from palm trees
Curves smooth like the slide of hand your auntie use to give you cake before diner time
Sweet and thick and heavy
Her whole body was scared in brail so it didn’t take much light to read her story
Bursting at the seams she always was
Larger than life she would become
Symphonic was the way she rolled her tongue and clicked in cursive
Always with her neck cocked to the side or with a sly smile
Like she knew something about your secrets
She is the love of my life
With her mamas cheek bones and her daddy’s eyes
So when she smiled it was an open invitation to dream on somethin’
To fly like maximum ride
The way my brother did when books were his jet turbines
How she walked on air when she finally arrived
Said I’m showing up
Because life is a party and its mine
This is my self-portrait poem
An appreciation for the only me I have
A calling to the Queen in me
To the God in me
When I meet God I hope she looks like me
I’m done with apologizing about dancing in the sun
I’m over writing love poems for everyone else
This one is for me
An anthem to m awesome if you will
A reminder to never let anyone love me more than I love myself