Kennedy Garza Brown
Will my hands be as thick as hers were?
Silver bands, 24k gold rings, garnets, pearls
swallow my fingers
I am a child again
I have Abuela’s few diamonds
but not her thick hands
her rings clink together
I have to keep my palms up, surrendering
In order to keep them from slipping
I chewed down my red acrylics
I can’t stand them
What have I done to my hair?
Chopped, dyed, shaved
hoping that something other
than a woman will appear
But the something never emerges
It’s time to let the hair grow back
What have I returned to?
I have my mother’s face
My father’s eyebrows
Nothing is mine
All these things adorn me
But feel as if they come from somewhere else
The rings fall off so easily
They’re so easy to take off but not let go
Kennedy Garza Brown is an Austin-based poet and nonfiction writer whose been published in Grain of Salt Mag and Abditory Press. They focus their work on capturing minute experiences that rustled their soul. Kennedy received their BFA in Creative Writing at Emerson College and continue their education with Catapult Workshop.