Yo soy de bicycles that aren't mine
De tealights y scented candles
Yo soy del cluttered desks and messy closets
Warm, and usually quiet
Yo soy de succulents and miniature roses
El cherry blossom tree
Whose long gone limbs I remember
As if they were my own.
Soy de long bike rides y baking for no reason
De mom y the cats
Yo soy de sweet tooth abuses y forgetting to put things back in the fridge
Y de shouting from downstairs to talk to someone upstairs
Yo soy de "you look just like your father" y "dirt won't hurt"
Y Hey Jude, don't make it bad, take a sad song and make it better
Soy de Apples to Apples
Yo soy de Portland y Sweden y down south
Collard greens and acorn squash
De my great grandmother and great grandfather -- one, a full Cherokee, the other, a Swede
Portraits on bookshelves, photos in boxes, a few tucked away for safe keeping
No comments:
Post a Comment