Frente de Nopal

When my eyes graze my mothers face, I place a kiss on her forehead 

“Una frente de nopal”, my mother says when I do so 

She jokes about such, but we both understand its not funny. 

Our smiles fade to fear when we recall what our reality is 

All of our reality. 

The reality that she fled her home at 15, 

The reality that she left to come achive her dreams, 

The reality that she’s not the only one. 

My mother planted seeds on her trail

Watered them with her tears 

Kept them warm with her love 

Watched them grow and bloom.

I am my mothers flower 

I am my mothers pain 

I am going to make her proud, and place a kiss on her forehead.