by Caryl Nuñez
I wanna talk about being Afrolatina
I wanna talk about being an AfroDominican espiritual,
and talk about why it’s so hard to talk about
parcel out my being…
I wanna talk about not looking the part.
Resisting femme/butch dichotomies,
Colonial what I dress like,
Who I come off like,
And your deep desire to be
Am not your
Would-be soul sista,
“Team light-skinned”, could pass a lot,
Forgot her place, Latina first,
Black, who is she kidding,
Africa ain’t that far away from us.
I wanna talk about how I talk is not about you or who I’m tryna be but about academia tearing me open,
Splitting my tongue,
Do you hear me?
I am a child of the great supreme,
Fighting to stay alive with words,
Keeping it real to mi gente, todavia estoy aqui
And not making you feel insecure.
I wanna talk about how not to be essentialist with our assumptions, questions, art, edited volumes.
But I also wanna sit and not talk,
Let the need to know so hard drift away in each others’
Staggered breaths and deep stares
meeting you in my mind’s heart,
Remember what la paz feels like, together—
to listen over and over again
Cuz we just can’t seem to get it.
Expand how you know,
Know, live theories in the flesh,
bone-known-skeletal-memory of theft.
be real about living a life incongruent with values
not pretend like being spiteful coulda had you, used
self-manipulated and yet so strong, stubborn y aparecida –
Look what our hands have built.
Communities of struggle struggling to get along,
struggling to see,
I wanna talk, desarmada.
I wanna talk about being tired or being tired,
and what do we do after that?
I wanna talk about despair and how we are still in this, together,
I wanna talk about the sky so blue you feel when you wonder about that Caribbean breeze,
The sun shining on your aura because you and the ancestors just dreamt real life together?
Let’s talk about those who inspire us and rethink strategies for right now, right here, the daily.
Let’s talk about ending all forms of violences without reifying the gaze towards violence.
Let’s walk the walk without pointing fingers at each other so loudly, even if you are right.
Extend a hand in redefining love for ourselves,
Making new maps and points of departures.
trying too hard, but
am not your
would be politician,
think she know better, professor-wannabe
Forgot her place, woman first,
Revolutionary, who is she kidding…
You and I
Are born of the same tree.
Follow Caryl Nunez on Social Media:Instagram: CarylIsMagic, Twitter: CarylIsMagic, Tumblr: soulconsciousness.tumblr.com, SnapChat: CarylSoul
In her own words “I a queer afrodominican creative who is committed to anti-racist and anti-imperialist productions of knowledge. I write poetry, short stories/flash fiction, and enjoy painting. My activism is rooted in US Third World Feminism. Currently, I am finishing my dissertation “Perverse Returns: Decolonizing Myths of Women’s Empowerment, LGBT Asylum Law and Human Rights Discourse”. When I’m not buried in revising chapters, I am singing my heart into the world through my church choir, laughing at ridiculous vines, and imitating animated film villains because I’ve gotten eerily good at them. I am also humble. “