I’m not in love with you but I seem to keep acting that way. If I ever figure it out I’l let you know.
You are nothing without me. I created you from spit and red dust. And I can snuff you between my finger and thumb if I want to. Blow you to kingdom come. You’re just a smudge of paint I chose to birth on canvas. And when I made you over, you were no longer a part of her, you were all mine. The landscape of your body taut as a drum. The heart beneath that hide thrumming and thrumming. Not an inch did I give back.
from “Never Marry a Mexican,” Woman Hollering Creek