accepted by aunt chloe (2021):

 
“note to self”

a sunflower    
conjured          out of the dark

soft
wholesomeness
buzzing           in My fantasies;



fully
celebrate everyone’s
absurd things
and smile
from one extreme to another


Tender
my darling

tenderness


“oxtails”

thanksgiving, christmas, new years eve
my parents (daddy) churn time in a
pot, all the fats sinking to the bottom,
the smells running through the house
until the oxtails soon melt in my ears—soft
chews, the only alarm able to
seat us all at the table in sync
is my mom pouring the sparkling juice
and daddy taking the top off the
caramelized sizzling of centuries of hardwork
and recent gentrified grocery store prices driving tradition
further and further away.