VivirLatino

I always turn to the mujeres, the women who have come and gone before me as poetas and activistas. As I was leafing through my worn copy of Gloria Anzaldua’s Borderlands/ la Frontera

the Catholic girl still left inside found this poem appropriate for Good Friday.

The Cannibal’s Cancion

It is our custom
to consume
the person we love.
Taboo flesh: swollen
genitalia nipples
the scrotum the vulva
the soles of the feet
the palms of the hand
heart and liver taste best.
Cannibalism is blessed.

I’ll wear your jawbone
round my neck
listen to your vertebrae
bone rapping bone in my wrists.
I’ll string your fingers round my waist–
what a rigorous embrace.
Over my heart I’ll wear
a brooch with a lock of your hair.
Nights I’ll sleep cradling
your skull sharpening
my teeth on your toothless grin.

Sundays there’s mass and communion
and I’ll put your relics to rest.