Jessica (Tyner) Mehta

I fear my daughters

will only remember me
as the mother with cold hands—
not the mother whose belly

they strained to distinction.
I was not the mother
who slapped the Lakota clean
out their mouth

with a, Skin
color don’t mean
nothing anyway. We born
in America, we all
Native Americans.
I was not even

the Kokum with shorn
braids who slipped Cheerios and soap
between lips puckered
tight as their birth
father’s fists.

But I was the mother

who cleared the eczema
with dollar store jars
of Vaseline, bootleg bear
grease, and spruce salve.

I was the mother
who pressed

good dreams into eyelids, oneirologist
conjuring sweet fantasies
exploding through darkness.

I am the mother
who did stay, who could
remain, who packs in the hurt
and kneads it into my own.

Jessica (Tyner) Mehta, born and raised in Oregon and a citizen of the Cherokee Nation, is a multi-award-winning interdisciplinary author, artist, and storyteller. She is currently preparing for her Fulbright U.S. Scholar award in Bangalore, India and the completion of her PhD. Learn more at www.thischerokeerose.com.