They

Roque Salas Rivera

what do we eat when a name dies?

yesterday your mother stopped by, but she didn't

recognize me as your friend's friend, the previous one.

what is that about, having a dead friend

in the wallet with a picture of a kidnapped kid?

have you seen my son?

he is short and collects photos of swings.

my short hair isn't professional;

your long hair doesn't prepare you.

between the two of us, we figure out how

to fake we are marionettes, not people.

it's difficult to count the days

since the last time we went out.

what is that about, going out

and not having to explain

you aren't that her

or that thing?

in this, our language,1

there exists no plural that doesn't deny me.

1 our language is spanish. ours, but never quite mine.