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I wish I could call her Abuela,
because I want the sweet notes to fill her insatiable need for warmth.
But my pasty skin says Grandma, and it sticks to my tongue like a holiday dumpling.
So Grandma stills wears socks inside the house,
even though it's been summer for two months.
But if you came to my house this morning, you wouldn't know that,
because the fog rose thick; so it could also be autumn.
But the sun's scythe holds strong even the thickest plume,
and the sky was clear by dinner.
I told you that because sometimes I forget to see the beauty.
I told you that, because it's a beautiful world.
One day in August, the rain was thick with warm air, and it tried to choke me.
So I stayed inside.
At noon, I spread goat cheese on a cracker.
I didn't sweep up the crumbs that fell, and they stuck to Grandma's socks
Maybe, if she was Abuela,
I would have swept the floor,
and she wouldn't have a bug in her room.