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Those Christmases I understand
the power of family. My three
brothers will be there this year.
I so wish I could be there too.
THE ONLY PLACE
I’d rather be is with Kyle. He’s all I can
think about as I help make dinner,
Tanya chattering away about how much
you’ll love Roosevelt and church on Sunday.
All I can think about at the table, Walter
griping about the goddamn power bill.
All I can think about as Simone and I
load the dishwasher in total silence.
Wonder what he’s doing, as I brush
my teeth, get ready for bed. Wonder
if he’s thinking about me, too, as Eliana
borrows one of my well-loved books.
Wonder if I’ll ever see him again as Rosa
practices for her Sunday School pageant.
Wonder if he’s written me off already
as I crawl between the scratchy sheets.
IT IS WALTER
Who comes to handle the lights-out
bed check. He knocks, but doesn’t
wait for an invitation to enter.
Simone, in a short, gauzy nightgown,
barely covers her long legs, and Walter
is all eyes. I swear, he starts to salivate.
No. No way. Not her. And not me.
Good night, ladies. He flips off the lights,
