My mother died last May.
She lived to sew her own designs
dressed her only daughter
like a baby doll contrived
in custom made pink and lace,
a traumatic misplace for a non-femme.
My mother died last May.
At home, in bed, alone
gut stained rose flowered bedding
displayed proof of her demise
where she had laid choking on bile
in denial of transition time.
My mother died in May.
Sent her off to the other side
wherever she may be in style
clustered red floras, gray mental casket
blue and white rayon poke-a-dotted dress.
No pink. No lace.
Nívea Castro, a Nuyorican lesbica, is a writer, photographer, social justice attorney and educator. A thrice VONA alum, her poems and writings have been published in numerous journals and anthologies and been featured in various venues. She is the curator of Sinister Wisdom #97 Out Latina Lesbians, a literary journal. Nívea lives in Brooklyn. She is working on a poetry manuscript, a fiction book, and an essay/photo chapbook on her recent travels to Cuba.