“Yellow Child” by Tia Leilani Ramos

In Baudelaire’s “Beauty” her eyes are mirrors

& I realize you must have been his muse

As nothing you see reflects upon yourself.

When I was 10 I stopped hula dancing.

Now when I fuck a guy

I think I learned to fuck when I was a kid 

B/c I spent every Monday in Boulder 

Rolling my hips like a whisk. 

My Mom told me 

That Elvis’ nickname was Elvis Pelvis 

And he made girls faint with his gyrations 

And sometimes I like to imagine 

The kind of sex I’d be having 

If I stopped hula dancing when I was 14 

B/c I was a horny 14 year-old 

Who’d watch sex scenes on Youtube 

But didn’t know how to masturbate yet 

And I wish I was as embarrassed at that  

As I was about being a hula dancer or 

As I am about being Asian.

My mom called me the other day. She said

She’s writing a letter to our old house.

I said that was nice

& that I’d like to read it

& she said she would like that

& now I feel like writing a letter to her

That I will never let her read: 

 

To My Mama Who’s Leaving 21 Blue Heron Drive— 
 

I’m embarrassed when people bring you up

b/c I don’t want them to think you’re uneducated

Or too emotional or a pushover

I thought of you lying

In your California King the morning of your flight

Pushing aside the dog to pick up your phone

b/c Alan knows that you got drunk last night &

That you didn’t pack &

That he’ll be there in half an hour

To take you to the airport.

Did walking on our cold bamboo floors wake you up or

Was it the Colorado sun that always beats

Through our sliding doors? 
 

Maybe that house was an extended metaphor

For your love or

You as a person or

Our family, there’s something poetic

About the fact that it was

Yellow

& that it let in a lot of light.

Did you know I slept w/ my head

Under the covers for 2 years

Because I was sure someone was going to come in

& murder us all

Amelia once asked me where

I felt most comfortable &

I said nowhere

But especially not home. 
 

I watched the debate tonight.

I was ashamed to think

That you probably heard what Trump said

b/c it makes me embarrassed

b/c I don’t want you to think of all the men

That have grabbed my pussy w/ or w/out my permission.

Motherhood is so bodily

How could you have let my hairy lil’ noggin

Destroy your yellow temple? 
 

Did you know that you hurt me sometimes

& I like to catalogue your hurt

So I have a Word document that is called

Shit My Mom Says / You always say

That we can forgive cruel words

But we’ll never forget them

Like how Joe told me that

The good relationships

Are always transactional / I’ve been

Carrying you around for the past couple weeks

as in I think the timbre of your laugh

That is so bright & projected which I hate

Which I was always self-conscious that I had

But when I sit down to write I don’t know

What I want to say or whom I’m saying this to

And I know if you were writing me a poem

You would praise my beauty & say something

You’d think was a compliment like

An entry in Shit My Mom Says:

“I know you’ll be a great poet

Because the great ones are always troubled.” 
 

I’m taking two poetry classes

& I read Baudelaire’s “Beauty” in one of them

& I realized that I make too many I statements

Because every poem I write is just about

How I feel

& what I think

& in my other poetry class

I have to write a poem about you

But how can I write a poem about a woman

Who I love

Who looks just like me

Who makes decisions like I do

Who tells me she gets lost in my eyelashes

Who is ashamed of her own eyelashes

Who had me even though she didn’t want to

Because aren’t your eyes roadside reflectors? 
 

For so long I blamed you for my troubles

For Dad cheating & Alex’s anger

For your stupid laugh

For all the times you never went

To Parent-Teacher conferences

Or wear nice clothes so people

At my rich white private school

Would know that we were rich

& forgive us for not being white. 
 

You told me a story from high school.

You told me that someone approached you,

Told you they had just visited Japan

& that your eyes were so much bigger than theirs

& you laughed & you were proud

Instead of ashamed that someone

Is comparing your body to someone else’s.

You are always comparing your body to mine

As if you wish your body was a mirror

I was using before leaving the house. 
 

Why did you yell when I caught you

Admiring yourself in the mirror?

Naked, your heavy tits

Gazed upon your gaze b/c

O Mama don’t you know

That we are two       Golden Goddesses

With skin as yellow as a streetlamp.

Every morning I stand naked in my mirror

& pinch my pierced nipples

O Mama we are       Asian Princesses

Why are my words

The only ones

That paint us so?