I always liked our autumn walks
sunburnt leaves crisp beneath us,
the doorway hot behind us;
you smelled like things I didn't know:
muffled skies and apartment complex,
gypsy fires burning under highways...
...and sometimes
a spatula moon-dancer.
a little guilty, I would wish
that you wouldn't act so
"foreign".
but secretly,
I was glad
when you chased me into the bathroom.
I said I wouldn't come out.
I did.
II.
You called me your "sunce"
and bought me packets of strawberry chewing gum
when mom wasn't around,
and when we'd race back from the store
laughing so wild, I'd scream for you to
hurry, hurry dida! I'm winning!
I thought I was fast on my three year old legs;
now I know it was you
who let me be fast.
Mom always said I reminded her of you
and I thought it was strange.
I guess she meant that we were both strong
but I don't know if I'm strong like you.
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