passing through

passing through

sweat stinging skin, pricks poking past
the threshold that defines patience
saturated air soaked minutiae of the day
articles begging to be remembered

shaded by concrete. overhang sticky
coated with black smoke from buses
transporting ladies with empanadas,
pan dulce and children’s cola stained lips,

tequilla-breathed men and one man.
one man dressed in all white dark skin
sheathed with green and purple ink
he says something to me and my heart drops

alone amongst a bus station bloated with bodies
furious hands clench my neck
tattooed tears falling from his eyes he feels the cash that is
wet from sweat sitting in my pocket

then I come to, in english he says, “‘s hot huh?”
si muy caliente. words that he expels are
deported. ten years in jail. L.A. gangs.
I excuse myself and return

with two large cold waters to cool us down
we cannot escape the sweat
as we sit during our life story swap
friends’ names are dropped

places to go, there and here—stay clear
another broken bus arrives
he says that’s my bus, I have to go.
if you’re ever in california I say

dark and light hands shake
adios to him and the woman around his arm
tears falling from his eyes
as we leave this place and onto the next