Cuando eres Chingona
Words by Victoria Adelina Cortinas
Cuando eres chingona
they hear you coming.
With each step,
tacón to floor,
the force of fleshy fat,
la tierra tiembla.
Cuando eres chingona
the curiosity builds.
Heads rise over cubicle partitions,
over rows of Flaming Hots at the gas station,
over bowed heads receiving Eucharist,
y los ojos están contigo en cada paso.
Cuando eres chingona
the heart starts to race.
The mind starts to wander,
“I’ve never been with a fat girl,”
y el mero mero suda.
Art by Marisol Rios
Cuando eres chingona
they wonder how it tastes
to bite into thick flesh,
juice running down their chin,
sweet sticky manos,
taking them back to simpler times.
Cómo lo desean…
Cuando eres chingona
they guess your name.
But for now you hear,
“Oye mamasota,”
“nalgona,”
“ven pa’ca.”
Pero eres chingona
so each time your thighs quake,
your lips part,
or your fists tighten,
recuérdales que eres Chingona.