Somewhere between the broken Promises and
Broken trust that happens all too Often
Between families now,
Somewhere beyond the Atlantic Ocean
Your face gets buried in darkness Because I can barely remember
The way your face crinkles when you
Smile
On a map I could draw
A black line of Sharpie ink from my
House to your hand
Where you would pick me up and tell me how much you missed me
Because that’s what families are supposed to do,
Right?
My baby, now not so baby, cousin’s voice comes through the
Black telephone
High-pitched with that certain Cuteness that comes through Babies’ voices
You tell me that when I come over,
You’ll show me what you played With today
Completely unaware that in order For me to “come over”
I would have to cross a country And an ocean and half of a second Country,
Not to mention I would have to Cross miles upon shaking miles of
Family grudges
So just for now,
I’ll tell a huge white lie,
And promise that I’ll
See you soon