Don’t you wanna roll with a ?
Women up on yur Instagram & us in a dream. Don’t you wanna roll with a good girl? Porter Ray fingers his baby mustache, says he’s going to pyramid in México, says he’s going to smoke pulque. He looks South & the wall opens. Buried MINES detonate. A queen stands at yur door, her pout neon. What survival looks like shifts & is more than the closing of wound. These are just the little things. Marriage a colonial grind, good girls called putas & jailed in San Juan. Mira, it comes down to this: I don’t want to be wife if love means own, if love means my queen grills me on la boxeadora, if she burns my stack of cream back from the club, pulls my braids around her wrist, & cuts into my own skin. I had the tattoo before love, lived in the park at the end of the Avenue. All that damp rolled back into my smoke & I breathed it back out, survival a mouthful of Milky Way. Porque soy bruja, porque soy loca pa ti, porque soy tuya. Survival is Jack licking a swisher & talking backward & then forward at three times the speed cuz his spit is honey. He speaks that fast & raps faster. Jack on the edge of my bed after I take the morning-after-pill from his cousin & suicide wets my mouth. Jack won’t leave until the poison leaves my body. When I go over yur studio, I don’t stop cuz survival is asking for more than five minutes, choosing conversation over fuck with, as in I don’t fuck with your syndicate. The queen outside is cold, she looks like me, but doll. Porque soy bruja, porque no uso mestiza, porque soy loca pa ti, porque no soy tuya. I kiss the queen’s knuckle, tell her she’s bruja. She becomes pyramid & smoke. I forget to tell you, we make a coven of three.
Sarah Maria Medina is a poet and a fiction/creative non-fiction writer from the American Northwest. Her writing has been published in Vol. 1 Brooklyn, Midnight Breakfast, PANK, Split This Rock, Raspa Literary Journal, and elsewhere. She is an ARTISTS UP Grant LAB recipient for her poetry manuscript in progress "Ochun's Daughter," and a finalist in Indiana Review's 2015 Poetry Prize. She is also the poetry editor at Winter Tangerine. Medina is Boricua of m/ixed heritage (The United Confederation of Taíno People). She is at work on several projects. @LaHurakan