PROLOGUE
EVERYTHING’S BIGGER . . .
in Texas
from the stars in the sky that scatter
like glitter across a big black canvas
with no beginning or end
to the fields of bluebonnets that whip and wind
down Interstate 10
from the sprawling gas stations like Buc-ee’s
to the mega grocery stores like H-E-B
filled to the brim with aisles and aisles
of beef jerky, BBQ brisket, breakfast tacos,
tortillas, tamales, sombreros, and sarapes
to the flying cockroaches that refuse
to get caught between the sole of a chancla
and a hardwood floorboard
from the kindness of strangers who will
“bless your heart” and “thank you ma’am” for any ol’ thing
to the pickup trucks that grumble and chug
and haul barrels of hay, horses, and even houses
from the overcrowded gun conventions
that dare you to “Come and Take It”
to the Confederate flags that hang
and wave at you from your neighbor’s driveway.
Everything’s bigger
in Texas,
except the straight white Texan’s ability
to imagine a world where they are not
the center of the universe
which is why, I think, they keep making laws
and they keep changing the rules
to keep the rest of us “in our place”
to keep the rest of us
small.
SIT AND SIMMER
My name is Yulieta Lopez
and this is the story of my anger,
and how it became
a house fire I tried
to smother silent
but it spun into an asteroid
that slammed around inside me
and begged to be let out.
I didn’t want to play the part
of the angry Black girl
so I tried to keep the fire
contained in my belly
but it slithered out and snaked
itself around my throat—
a rope of smoke
that caused friction
in the folds of my body
and the longer I let it
sit and simmer
the harder it became
to just breathe.
ACT I:
Our Town
Time: Late August Place: A Texas Suburbbut bein’ alive & bein’ a woman & bein’ colored is a metaphysicaldilemma/i haven’t conquered yet—Ntozake Shange,
for colored girls . . . BREAKFAST AND BUTTERFLIES
Friday morning before the sun
kisses the Texas summer sky
my stomach is a storm
of nerves and nausea.
Today is a big day at school and though
I should be rushing to get ready
I can’t seem to will my spine
to sit up and get this day started.
Downstairs, oil sizzles in a sartén,
hot like the August air outside my window.
The salty smell of Dominican salami
slides into my room and my butterfly-filled
belly flips and flops.
Mami yells up the stairs:
“Yullliii.” Her voice is a cast iron pan
scraping a burner.
“Come down now! Your brother
is leaving in thirty minutes!!
Come set the table!
Ya el desayuno está listo.”
Breakfast may be ready
but I’m not.
I need just a few more minutes
before I’m forced to become
who everyone else expects me
to be.
THE PARTS I PLAY
The diligent daughter
who washes and scrubs
toilets and tubs.
Who dusts and vacuums
fans and floors.
The honorable hija
who always comes when called.
Who sets the table and serves
everyone else before serving herself.
The good girl
who follows all the rules
and knows how to smile
and stay positive
to keep Mami stress-free
for the sake of her health.
MAMI’S HEALTH
When Mami was seventeen
and lived in the Dominican Republic,
she was diagnosed with lupus.
It’s an illness that has attacked her joints,
muscles, skin, and internal organs.
Mami describes it like a fire inside
her whole body
causing everything
to be inflamed.
Sometimes Mami’s hands are so swollen
she can barely dress herself.
Sometimes I have to hug her gently
because her whole body aches.
Sometimes, if it’s really bad, she has to go
to the hospital for a couple of days to get
fluids through an IV until she’s strong
enough to come home.
Most days, Mami is able to manage her symptoms.
But lupus is a dormant volcano inside her body.
Her aches and pains can get better or worse
depending on what she eats,
how she sleeps, and how much she works.
But the worst thing for Mami’s health
is stress. So I do my best
to be the easy river she needs me to be
so the fire inside her stays quiet and calm
and she stays healthy and out of the hospital.
WORDS THAT HEAL
Today though, I just need
a few more minutes to myself.
So I reach for the worn-out copy
of my favorite play on my nightstand.
for colored girlswho have considered suicide/when the rainbow is enuf,by Ntozake Shange.
I open to the first scene.
I read and reread
and repeat some of my favorite
lines as if they were a prayer
and Shange’s words wash over me
like holy water that heals.
Copyright © 2025 by Jasminne Mendez. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
