Language is tongue.
Mi lengua es tu lengua y tu lengua
en mi lengua, sabor al
in-between. We are stuck
in confused identities. Loving
in a thousand foreign homes and home
is nowhere I can decipher.
¿De dónde eres y porqué tan
blanca? This is my question, too,
why am I so, so white?
My skin wants to smell like cornflower
and dust from the fields
I used to walk past on my way to school,
my skin wants to be born a second
birth, nacimiento de corazón,
nacimiento como lo ocurrido cuando
te conocí, cuando te enamoré,
cuando me enamoraste.
Slipping your Oaxaca ring onto my finger
was slipping the zipper closed
between two broken, unknown selves.
Te amo too, I say, and I mean
mi casa es tu casa, más bien,
mi casa eres tú. It has always been you.
 birth of the heart, birth like that which occurred when I met you, when you fell in love, when I fell in love.
 my house is your house, or rather, my house is you.