Soon to be Published
Fifteen to Eighteen
She came out of church dressed
like her other life, purple, ready
for the parties and las palizas,
carrying the eighty extra pounds
of luggage she pawned at the santero’s
house the day before.
"Funny how a lonely day
can make a person say…"
The first time I felt mutual kisses,
whispers nibbling on my ears,
under the cover invitations
penetrating, taking flight,
he was a friend of the family.
I went along with the salutations.
"Funny how I often seem
to pick and find another dream…"
The boxer and La Lupe
taking my imagination
into humidity. We were one,
him standing behind me,
his hands on my neckline,
lips on lips,
a lucky charm locked
on my collar.
"This is my life
and I don't give a damn
for lost emotion..."
The day a Jewish boy reared me
She came out of church dressed
like her other life, purple, ready
for the parties and las palizas,
carrying the eighty extra pounds
of luggage she pawned at the santero’s
house the day before.
"Funny how a lonely day
can make a person say…"
The first time I felt mutual kisses,
whispers nibbling on my ears,
under the cover invitations
penetrating, taking flight,
he was a friend of the family.
I went along with the salutations.
"Funny how I often seem
to pick and find another dream…"
The boxer and La Lupe
taking my imagination
into humidity. We were one,
him standing behind me,
his hands on my neckline,
lips on lips,
a lucky charm locked
on my collar.
"This is my life
and I don't give a damn
for lost emotion..."
The day a Jewish boy reared me
from the gutter, placed me upon his bike,
took me home and set me into his bedwas also a Sunday, and I held on to him
as kosher as I dared.
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