Poem (english)

My body is transgressive. My big hips, my thighs that rub together when I walk, my curly hair, and my dark eyes. They give me away as a muxer who doesn’t belong in a dominant culture that tells me and my muxeres to trim down, to pluck, to straighten, to cover up the many imperfections that make me…me. So then they’re not imperfections, they’re my battle stance against the microgressions that try to tear me down, that try to convince me to fit into a society that doesn’t want me. So my body is a site of resistance, a site of love, a site of anger, a site for community. My muxeres and I keep this world alive, even as it tries to kill us, to kill our mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, friends, our immigrant communities, our queer communities. But we’re not here just to survive, to transgress. We’re here to map our connections, to link our stories, our voices, so that they never forget that we’re here to thrive. We are more than our defenses, more than our struggles, one day we will transgress the transgression, and that will be our liberation.

- Rocio