poetry by alejandra cabezas
Xtabentun
Because I myself am a shapeshifter,
I know bodies to be pits. Where monsters,
their wings, their claws, their tails,
can coil into a man. My father was
the first shapeshifter I knew. At times man.
At times monolith, I worshiped him.
Because I myself am a shapeshifter,
I call it this. When I mean to say:
I acknowledged his arms. Outstretched
into the night. He looked like an angel.
A face full of faces. Roaring, like a brazen bull.
His screams were unbearable. But I bore them.
The only way a daughter can. Like a flower.
A clambering vine. Over the stone,
I grew. Thornless & white. I grew.
Listen: a daughter’s love can sprawl
through any hedge & overcome.
With my voice like a trumpet, I clamored.
begone begone begone.
Alejandra Cabezas is a poet and storyteller from Antiguo Cuscatlan, El Salvador. Her work has appeared in Pleiades Magazine, The Shore Journal, 128 Lit, Hex Literary, Litro Media, and elsewhere. She was named Poet of the Month by YES Magazine in May 2021, and she served as the Mount Holyoke representative for the Glascock Poetry Contest that same year. She is currently a Patchwork Film x Poetry Fellow.