The Yellow House
– Charlotte San Juan
As you talk to me
The yellow house in your eyes
Flecks painted stories and
All the voices coming from you
Stem from that place.
The you that eats gummy bears
And patrols your street on bike.
The you that paints walls
The you that worked the drive-thru
Before I really knew you.
All of this comes off you in waves
Of thermal energy as hot winds
Push us around town,
Through water spigots
That make the ground dance.
And people stare but we’re
Two kids with cool lips
Reading Popsicle stick jokes
That they know nothing of.
And we make moves like
A bowl of watermelon
Dripping and juicing in the heat.
The you with a mouthful of black beans
And a door hinge that squeaks for me,
Turns left and waves out the window
As I keep on going straight, but—
The warmth of that yellow house
Sits on my wet lap like a sun
Who can’t decide whether to set
Or to rise.
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