Stranger

How does it feel to miss someone you’ve never known?

It feels like—

I’ve never had a conversation with you,

But we would sit on the couch

And watch something together.

You would fill in birthday cards for me,

And buy postcards because you know I collect them.

I would laugh at your jokes

And make you silly drawings.

But none of that happened.

My only memories come from other people, secondhand.

There is a hole in my heart where you should be,

And I don’t know what shape it takes.

To the Brick I Skinned my Knee On in First Grade

My hometown,

Where crosswalk buttons are raised high so people on horseback can get to them;



My hometown,

Where I can smell the concrete cooking on a hot day

and feel frost forming on a cold one;



My hometown,

Where my father says there are two things to do:

Drugs, and get the hell out,

And not necessarily in that order;



My hometown,

Where the poppies bloom in Rattlesnake Canyon;



My hometown,

Where trailers are as common as houses;



My hometown,

Populated by druggies and white trash and people with no way out,

Where the smell of cigarette smoke hangs like a blanket over my shoulders;



My hometown,

Where my family’s been for years,

Where back roads are like the back of my hand;



My hometown,

Where my heart lies among wildfire-weak grasses.

The Seamstress

She’s been doing this a long time,

Is your first thought upon seeing the old woman.

And she has;

Her papery skin is calloused from years of needles pricking through.

She smells like clean linen.

Her smile has all the warmth of summer sun peeking through curtains,

Obscured but no less beautiful.

Her hands are skilled, although they shake with age,

Years of hard work showing in the simplest of tasks,

Her eyes are clear and kind.

Your second thought is

I want to be her.

My Mom Warned Me About You

A sunburn on a cloudy day is:

An irritating pain,

One that creeps up on you

Worse than on a sunny day,

More insidious.

The clouds amplify the sun.

My mother bundled me up—

Mittens, coat, hat, scarf—

And told me this.

I told her she didn’t need to worry;

That the layers were suffocating.

I came home, rosy-cheeked from cold,

Skin peeling,

And my mother said nothing.