Reach deep, young one
To find love hidden
In the Cocomo places.
Littered like plastic
Combs bent into cruel
Shapes that children
Leave in other kids’
Souls. Love, a one-size-
Fits-most word, hungers
For a private slot raised
Between summer radishes and
Books held before blossoming
Cheats. Milk-fed, candy sweet,
Apples blushed pink. Palm-sized.
My palm. His palm
Practices a calming ritual
In a bathroom scrubbed
Clean with Lysol and
Rose-bloomed soap.
The pages bleed
Black ink even
As he burns.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem