limonada

her hands s q u e e z e

and I watch green veins on her hands dance

in rhythm to the same songs

she’s always humming

when I think of the 20’s

it makes sense why she

always has those same pearls on her neck

I think she lives in the memory of the tangos

from her Girlhood

on afternoons like these

I watch my best friend, el sol

visit me –just in time para el almuerzo!

through the curtains in the kitchen

and I can’t help but disfrutar the warmth

yo vivo aqui

in the daydreams where

el sol me da besitos

every morning

I’m a little too short to reach the kitchen counter

but I can see the dance is almost finished

she throws a final poquito of azúcar morena

into my favorite tweety bird mug

*

the feeling of Love

is not about the fact it’s her house

it’s the way the days waltz by

so tenderly

it’s the glow from her golden brown skin

it’s the way life moves like the cotton candy clouds do

Neruda told you of the beauty of lemons

la copa amarilla derramando

agua

bendita

but I’ve never seen something as miraculous

as my grandmother’s hands.