Dad was home
when Mom gave birth alone.
A paradox blossoming between war-torn countries, I arrived, unexpectedly,
to a most familiar unholy matrimony.
Far from the border patrol agent whose gutted eyes are filled with remand and apathy.
Maybe that is how Dad returns, even when his bags are packed for the airport.
Now Mom is cutting mangos in the kitchen for our mouths that are craving
but, her body is aching
in the dresser, searching for the shadow of his belongings.
She crumbles and unfolds the passport that stumbles out, she tucks it under
the loose floorboard, and I am stalling.
Mom’s cries swell and pelts the walls with a curse that shudders.
We walk to the room and shut the door.
The Christmas lights flicker in the air of words untold.
The Christmas lights flicker in the air of words untold.
We walk to the room and shut the door.
Mom’s cries swell and pelts the walls with a curse that shudders
the loose floorboard, and I am stalling.
She crumbles and unfolds the passport that stumbles out, she tucks it under
in the dresser, searching for the shadow of his belongings.
But her body is aching.
Now, Mom is cutting mangos in the kitchen for our mouths that are craving,
Maybe that is how Dad returns, even when his bags are packed for the airport.
Far from the border patrol agent whose gutted eyes are filled with remand and apathy
to a most familiar unholy matrimony.
A paradox blossoming between war-torn countries, I arrived, unexpectedly,
when Mom gave birth alone
and Dad was home…
Caritza Berlioz is currently a student in the MFA creative writing program at City College of New York. She is currently working on her novel. Her work includes themes of immigration, family dynamics, and female friendships.
