pseudonyms

Neve Beatriz Mendoza | Fall 2021

now here is this beautiful boy & he says however i say his name will be correct. says, “the sound, it just doesn’t exist in english.” his parents would never have named him that way if they thought they’d end up in queens, 

cultural melting pot, most diverse borough.

and i sigh into him, not relief like the teachers anglicizing his name, but frustration of the little girl who put l’accent aigu over her e just so strangers would say it right slant it correctly and even that self-alienating hand holding gave them the wrong idea and they skipped right to the beeeeeeeeeee of it all. not even trying. barely a sense of correct only a reminder of colonisation 

& i don’t want to do that to you! no shameful compliance no submission no lying down no 

no i don’t want your name simple and for mass consumption. no i don’t want to say your name like a stranger—i want to live inside of it. yes put me in between the consonants. bury me in the syllables. feel me trying. listen to me embarrass myself alone curling my tongue in ways gymnastics romance languages never demand; i don’t want to say your name like a stranger: let me live inside of it. 

where linguistics fail i put my hands on your chest and my head in your hands let me put your heart in my throat lips to temple i don’t need words for this part hear me when i tell you: