Under the Hot Sun: Poetry and Reflections on Love, Family, and Moments

staring down the barrel of the hot sun
shining with the sheen of a shotgun
Carol has a little if we need some
Joa has a ride if we wanna come
hanging your jeans with a clothes pin
skin still wet still on my skin
mango in your mouth juice dripping
shoulder of your shirt sleeve slipping
Christmas Eve with your mother and sis
don’t wanna fight but your mother insist
dogs white teeth cut straight through my wrist
took me to the ER and they put me on a risk
grocery store list now you’re getting pissed
three missed calls and messages
I don’t wanna be the order of your fantasy
I just wanna be a part of your family
and I don’t wanna talk about anything
I don’t wanna talk about anything
I wanna kiss kiss your eyes again
Wanna witness your eyes looking
I don’t wanna talk about anyone
I don’t wanna talk about anyone
I wanna sit in your car while you’re driving
lay in your lap while I’m crying