sometimes you hold hope in your hand
like a tiny piece of glass

if hopes edges haven't been softened
you could hurt yourself

and that is why sometimes it is held delicately, almost
with the appearance of unbelief
because
there hasn't been reason to trust

______________________________

a day at the cafe:

the dishwasher knows no English
sometimes he walks by and pulls on my apron strings
or tried to find my bellybutton with his pointer
I point and rebuke him, I do
and say "Rigaburto" with a glare in my voice

Once, just once
I said something to him that I say to my girl friends
"mi amor"
it just slid out like a
wet body on the slip and slide

and now he will not stop saying it
every Wednesday
at the cafe

_________________________

Blue eyed
spanish speaking
guest
in my section

said on Wednesday
"you, you very nice
i like
very much
the way that you talk to people"

I hope he could see my secret in my eyes
(it's not me you see? it's Jesus.)

______________________

I never wanted to serve him
he was always short
in stature and it tone

always looking at the other waitresses
letting them sit with him or fill up his drinks
distracted like maybe
I was just his meal

2.
I noticed the card and
the whispering between D and J
when he walked in
they were talking about a hospital bed
and only a few days left
and
no visitors

3.
she's gone down
and they still come
taking up the other waitresses

the thing is
I never knew her, only saw her once
small
skinny
across from him
a tiny sadness below her eyes

she's gone now

but he still comes
and everyone else knew her
and so, maybe by talking with them
he feels a bit closer to her