Be there instead.

There is a yearning to be closer
And to sing praises of those days
When we sat in the room, all of us
Corazon Salvaje wailing melodrama
Rattly headphones let us in on the show
The fog of an overworked estufa
Carne con chile acercando las ocho
One caught in the tangles of her hair
The other one high heeling the place
Desires a career impersonating Selena
Neither buried nor above ground
We spent few moments at peace
Afternoons either bright or pale
Before the oldest found her apron by the stairs
And the youngest found her busted carriola
And the one in the middle just sat in the room
Crouched at the behest of pen and paper
Sat in the heat of prayer and heresy
A shortage of hearth there
But never short on warmth
No shortness of color when the wind kept us inside
Respite is all we asked for
This is what I miss
Still and always miss



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