by MJ Santiago
The taco stand that used to be a Checkers
used to be a fruit stand, which used to be just
In every version I find something
Doña Marina sold out her country
to Cortes, or Malintzin's own country
Either way, La Malinche gave birth
to something new.
My father says his sister disappeared
with some boy. His mother says the man
disappeared with her.
Either way, she was never seen again
by anyone who knows me.
My mom says it's all the same story
told by different people. I say my parents
named me Malinchista—
So, I don’t know what I own. I know that
I am loyal to whatever I can say is mine.
Originally from central Florida, MJ Santiago currently lives and works in New York. Their work has appeared in Reservoir Lit, Heavy Feather Review, and Tinderbox Poetry Journal. Their debut chapbook, Baby Knife, is available from Tenderness Lit (2018).