My Mother’s Hands

shed coral scales

& sunrise. In England, the inside


is ashen. She touches tangerine flowers,

when a woman


exiting her home in Camberwell cries,

go back to where you come from, as if


she carries still the scent

of dragon-fruit. I swallow


cherry stones. I flower

your abandoned garden


in my belly, to carry in me the whispers

of all your lost colours. I dream


in shades of lilac. Sometimes

my tummy hurts.


grew up between Oxford and Mexico City, with stints spent in France and Italy, and began writing poetry while living in Boston, Massachusetts. Her poems have been published in British, American and Canadian journals, including Blackbox Manifold, Colorado Review, The Missouri Review and Willow Springs, and are recently anthologised in Un Nuevo Sol: British Latinx Writers (flipped eye, 2019). 



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