by Maria Moreno
If my name was a color, it would be green
Like the sage I burn to heal my wounds.
My name does not stand tall; it is average.
I go around unnoticed.
My sound is of laughter, mostly mine.
I laugh at myself.
My smell is of roses
Like the rosaries sold outside of church.
I taste of tortillas hechas a mano con queso y salsa muy brava.
If you felt me, I am rough and callus like my father’s hands,
But there is also such a comfort in my texture.
Maria means bitter sea. Elena means light.
I am a movement of water and nothing will stop my path.
Then, by day’s end, I have the hope of light in me.
My name is a person, but one besides me.
She, the one who birthed me,
Gave me her name and so she lives through me.
