the way my father raised me by maricela guardado

Whenever my father is sad,

he becomes a pobre campesino.

And I become

una pobre campesina

every time I am sad.

Father,

you copied yourself

in my meals

in my belly

in the fat that I find

everywhere,

            anywhere.

When I feel,

I feed myself,

writhing in pain,

and I just wish that —

just let me say — please —

oh

Apa,

I’m so sorry,

Te quiero.

But I can’t be

Your pobre campesina

for you

anymore.