Roadkill

The topical cream tempts the itch to arrive 

Because we know it will always be there 

When I give in 

I didn’t know there was a rash behind my neck 

And I wish I was wearing my hair down to shield myself 

When I reached back to touch it, I knew 

I needed to cut my nails 

Invisible to my eye, but it was there 

Like the ringing in my ears and

Dizziness – led astray on some roundabout 

Then another 

Then that confused creaking in my joints 

Shaking hands, terrified knee tremble 

Ache looking for calm -- bottled or pilled, perhaps ointment 

Where can I find it?

And what does it mean that

When I see roadkill

I consider it a good luck charm –

Well wishes for the weekend;

Some selfish semblance of relief in death

And superstition to make the best of things

There is a crack at the top of the front door 

The shape of a triangle

Two ladybugs wait in the hall this morning – 

Real red luck swelling with life 

A burning comfort in my chest 

These are not dreams 

Instead, an itch, craving a hand to reach out

And find it. 

the night is coming

The night is an easy highway

Taking me where I need to go without

Turns as I sip on agua fresca

With chia seeds, fresh lime

We can drive all night but

Not before we cook – 

The night is a wide pan full 

Of pinto beans ready

To be smashed to oblivion 

Then spread tenderly on a tostada

The night is your bottle of tapatío – way 

Too big

But if it makes you smile, so it must be 

The night is dark

Afraid of what hides

And of what is shown proudly – 

Outdated flags from the wrong side of history 

On their lawns 

A woman touches my hair in the thrift store

Without asking

We wonder where it is safe to hold hands in our travels

The night is a door I make sure is 

Locked

A few unneeded times 

The night is heavy – 

Until your eyes glimmer in the 

Sheen of headlights that flash 

Through the window 

Until our heartbeats sync after

A day’s hard work 

The night is full 

And we’re ready 

With closed eyes.