A singular and unflinching collection that redefines survival as radical presence.

Sanchez-Ballado’s poems explore themes of inheritance, identity, and the transformation of pain into sweetness.

Across five sections that trace a path from survival to self-recognition, this poetry collection weaves memories of family, illness, queerness, and cultural displacement into a single tapestry of becoming. The speaker moves through experiences of shame and illness to reclaim joy and belonging through love, ritual, and language. What begins as endurance becomes reclamation as the work depicts the ways in which the body and its history can still bloom after breaking. In “I Brought a Dead Animal to School,” the poet recalls the humiliation of bringing homemade Cuban food to class, only to learn that fitting in requires erasing the flavors of home. “The Last Cafecito” turns that loss into reverence as brewing coffee for a late grandmother becomes an act of memory and survival. “Florida Man” widens the speaker’s lens to address queer existence under censorship and fear. “The Fruity Group” celebrates chosen family through the bustle of a group chat that doubles as a support network, a modern version of communal storytelling. The title poem ties these threads together with the image of a wasp dissolving inside the fig, a haunting metaphor for sweetness born of sacrifice and the ways family legacies live within the body (“My tía has our abuelo’s green eyes. / I have them too. / Nobody else”). Sanchez-Ballado writes with clarity and tenderness, grounding emotion in the physical world. The poems blend precise imagery with conversational rhythm, creating a music that feels lived-in and unforced. Everyday objects, such as a coffee pot, a fig, and medications, become vessels for memory, ritual, and care. The sequencing offers a subtle emotional progression as each section deepens the sense of transformation and connection. Throughout, humor and grief coexist easily, revealing a voice that understands healing as not linear nor clean but sacred in its persistence. The language is intimate yet controlled, honest but not despairing; this debut establishes a poet fluent in both the ache and the grace of survival.

— Kirkus Reviews