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Rolling Out Tortillas

Roll out the dough.

Roll out the crossing of rivers and

sun scorched skin.

Roll out fingers brittle from a cotton gin

and a mind, only educated as far as picking a plant

can go.

Roll out dozens of siblings and cousins so vast

you have trouble remembering their names.

Roll out shame.

Roll out the way the white tongue has trouble

rolling the  r

Roll out and leave that part of you there, flattened.

Roll out eating ice cream outside because

only whites were allowed inside.

Roll out being told you can only speak English

to my children

Roll out losing your native tongue to love

Roll out your half-breed children

Roll out their light skin and the privilege they’ll

have the opportunity not to appreciate.

Roll out the Almendarez so Davis can fully set in.

Roll out the American Flag,

Roll it far and wide and so far and so wide

that you forget where San Luis Potosí

even is.

Roll out the Chicana in you.

Roll it out so it makes it ok to use wetback liberally.

Roll it until it’s so thin you can only see the white

reflected in your face, until your dark hair and dark eyes, pale.

Teach me how to hold that rollingpin;

So I can remember this labor.

So I can remember how we keep our bellies warm.

So I can remember why my hair stays so curly and how

sometimes, I can see my ancestors through this storm.

Roll out that tortilla and toss it on the comal.

When it hits your tongue,

tell me how you’ve worked so hard to forget,

and tell me,

when it melts in your mouth…

Do you remember home?