By Sabrina Hinojosa
If only you could see what I see.
Rub it left handed as you write down the page.
Do not waste your lead on me.
Short stories hidden in milk crates
I’m too afraid to throw away.
Let ginger candy line my pockets and burn my tongue
Leave my head spinning loud with fairy-tail stories
Rest your tired lips on me.
Do you think of me?
Stereo speakers fastened on
Lazy church trees near your mother’s house.
White picket fences.
You were waiting in the bathtub
I should’ve known better than to try and fit myself between you and the water.
are hiding under the concrete
I woke up on a tear-smeared box spring.
I cried out all the good parts of me.
I see you’ve made it into the New Year and I guess
I am glad to see familiar face butOnly If you could see how I see.
Fireworks on rooftops when you were still foreign on my tongue
Hands always too large to fit in your pockets
Sabrina Hinojosa is an artist/poet in Corpus Christi. Her poetry has appeared in Issue 3 of VOLUME and in Red Wedge Magazine. She designed and printed the first 70 covers of Strike #1 and #3. She is a regular contributor to Ballabajoomba Poetry Slam. She is one of the founders of Strike Magazine and served as an editor for the first three issues.