In celebration of Cinco de Mayo and solidary with las mujeres unidas, a poem by Sandra Cisneros.
My cousins and I,
we don’t marry.
We’re too old
by Mexican standards.
And the relatives
have long suspected
we can’t anymore
in white.
My cousins and I,
we’re all old
maids at thirty.
Who won’t dress children,
and never saints–
though we undress them.
The aunts,
they’ve given up on us.
No longer nudge–You’re next.
Instead–
What happened in your childhood?
What left you all mean teens?
Who hurt you, honey?
But we’ve studied
marriages too long–
Aunt Ariadne,
Tia Vashti,
Comadre Penelope,
querida Malintzin,
Senora Pumpkin Shell–
lessons that served us well.
