To The Things That Raised Me
by Seyla Velez
To the parcha drinks and tamarindo candies
To those creamy corner-store coconut popsicles
Dripping down the sides of my toddler-swollen smile
To the mumbled bass booms of reggaeton
Strutting, heavy-footed, down our streets
To the Puerto Rican window hanging flags
And surround sound belly laughs
To the thick thighs that helped me dribble my first soccer ball
And long, brown hair flaunting its wealth
To those rosaries on the shelf
Confessions and repentance even to oneself
To the 4th of July parties that never failed us
And to the shots of Aguardiente that failed them
To the heapings of sopa that opened every last pore
and to the seemingly thousands of cousins
To the respect shown with cheek kisses and a hug
And a hello to everyone…
I mean e v e r y o n e in the room
To all the constant shouting but the good kind
To all the times I had to grab my jacket before leaving
And tragic consequences to wet hair
To the ones prevented by Vicks VapoRub
To every shade of skin I see,
even the ones with scars and tattooed lip tint
To the colombian jeans that somehow hold every curve
and to the dark knees and armpits we adore
Pa’ los viejos who keep the stories coming
Y los vallenatos that when the accordion begins,
It just hits different
To the things that raised me.