Feeding You

I have slipped chile under your skin 

Secretly wrapped in each enchilada 

hot and soothing, 

carefully cut into bitefuls for you as a toddler 

increasing in power and intensity as you grew 

until it could burn 

forever 

silently spiced into the rice 

soaked into the bean caldo 

smoothed into the avocado 

          I have slipped chile under your skin 

drop by fiery drop 

until it ignited 

the sunaltar fire 

in your blood 

I have squeezed cilantro into the breast milk 

made sure you were nurtured with the taste 

of green life and corn stalks 

with the wildness of thick leaves 

of untamed monte 

of unscheduled growth 

I have ground the earth of these Américas in my molcajete 

until it became a fine and piquant spice 

sprinkled it surely into each spoonful of food 

that would have to expand to fit your soul 

Dear Son 

Dear Corn Chile Cilantro Son 

This 

is your herencia 

This 

is what is yours 

This 

is what your mother fed you 

to keep you 

alive 

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