For Reference

“We’re going to have to weave,” I told Graciela on the pickup we switched to outside of San Lucas. It was a slow rise into the mountains guarded by clouds. I was grateful to be done for the day with buses. There was no space in the cab, so she stood next to me confident in my North Face winter hat with her shawl around her head and me. Corn ready to be harvested shaded on the horizon. I tightened my grip on the metal cage over the back of the pickup truck and ducked away from the wind, taking a moment to catch my breath for the climb. I had been afraid, frustrated, angry and confused, but it was a hopeful idea.

We took our photos for the staff page on the website together once, now hers sits alone.

On less viewed pages, I claim a separate outsider description as my own.

For reference.

“I was happier to help you finish than for myself,” I wrote on the retreat banner Facebook reminds me of, ten years past.

“I want to be an example for others,” her digital tab reads today.

For reference.

From Women Who Love Too Much

To Resistencia.**

For reference.

A huipil doesn’t speak to you

it recounts your soul,

a huipil doesn’t cover you

it embraces your heart,

a huipil doesn’t chafe

it caresses your chest,

a huipil doesn’t stain you

it tattoos your skin.

Jun po’t man choj ta nich’on chawe’

rija’ nusik’ij jun pach’un tzij chi re awanima,

jun p’ot man choj ta yatrukuch

rij’a nuq’etej ak’u’x,

jun p’ot man choj ta yatrupitz’

rija’ numalalej ruwa’ ak’u’x,

jun p’ot man choj ta yatrukuch

rija’ nuk’at nub’onij ach’akul.

I hope I recognized the meanings which means I identify the language.

They aren’t my words, but book cover(s), protect our pages, written together.

For reference.

I can’t describe the connection I feel. Fingers tracing fibers, woven. Fingers typing your name

I hit ‘send’ on the job application,

For (a) reference.

I am asking you to guide me, once again, with all the grace held in your name.

We may help words cross borders.

**Resistencia: Poems of Protest and Revolution (Mark Eisner and Tina Escaja editors)

Poem cited- “Our Woven Histories-Peraj Taq Sipanik” by Negma Coy