Latiana Blue



on inheritance

there are 3 mothers and
their children are asking for
affection in squirms &
untied shoes.

they are old enough not
to crawl, but dirt still smudges
their tiny fingers.

there are 3 black children
in different colors;    all left
to their own devices and by
the looks of their under
eyes
they are tired

Sisters with boots
heavier in pounds than
they are in years— 19, 25,
43.    black mothers
squeezing their hips thru
the holes in all their
jeans;    mothers with
chips for dinner,

and water in their eyes













9

When i was 9, walks to the park were caked in song. horns blew for a language unlike mine, trumpets fastening the belts on a hot summer mood.

Stereo cages rang, calling attention to a ring of salt and pepper men (puerto rican "papis," i think they called it); they'd find a spot central to the park's amusement, losing their throats to a game of checkers and bets placed over dominoes.

I trudged to the asphalt, dirt on my shoes, breathing in a hot park filled with smoke and broken spanish. a precocious kid aware of my difference, i sat alone at the swingsets; too shy for the sprinklers, too oddly dressed.

"Coco! mango! cherry!" the icee man would sing, & the red swings kicked my innocence with tangled chains. my defeats would collide in deafening tune while i swung lower than the other kids, rich with youth’s absence, and the wind refused to push me with them.

Still fluffy in the cheeks, night would brew and i'd lie hidden beneath bedsheets, safe and brightened by night lamps. i exhaled an existence into the black between my hands, holding onto little skin and bones until the sun crawled through windows twice my size.

—

When i was 9, it seemed happiness could run dry, like my eyes when i'd risk it all to taste the sun. but a fever still clung to the dust in my shoulder blades, squeezing life out my stiff neck, setting fire to limp hands that learned to fall and fall outside chalked lines.









Latiana is a queer poet known for her copious 'fro and quiet strength (she's an ENTJ). Calm yet expressive, Latiana's work is rooted in a devotion to mental health and sexual violence awareness. She's a native of The Bronx, NY and holds a B.A. in Communication Studies from Pace University. Her poetry can be found in Linden Avenue Literary Journal + Vassar Review, Feels Zine, and Hiss Magazine. She enjoys houseplants, immersing herself in hobbies, and attending LGBTQ+ events throughout NYC. You can find more about her at bklynprose.com, @bklynprose, and about.me/latianablue.






  • ☚ back to Issue 4