La Blusa

White with rainbow drippings.

Ribbons encase farm-worn-arms,

brown like the freshly baked pan

and peaking through las cintas

as the morning sun piques the day’s attention,

joining the rotating journey of Earth

while quinoa fields radiate with its glow.

White like the innocence and

dirty from the billowing dust as trucks

breeze past with perros in heel,

chasing a diminishing idea just as I do

while I float with lace on my breasts,

stepping forward in the only direction that makes sense anymore.

White, like me.

Colorful as my new identity.

Ecuadorian blouse becoming a second skin,

the ever extending organ connected to American blood

as it pulsates to my heart stretched with newfound roots.

I wear it with pride.

North American pride.

South American pride.

(we are one in the same)

Ecuadorian pride.

Simple, womanly pride.