late meal reflection

i welcome you, mango smoothie, into my mouth

this school, i know, is a money-making,

institution-reaffirming machine and yet

the late meal lady says they’re like our 

parents, and I say “i love you” and what 

i mean is, i love you, because you are

working a job like my parents and when 

you say i look pretty today, or when you

say that it’s good i try to look good because

“drag queens get ready to look like us,” 

whispered, i feel like it doesn't matter that

in spanish, everyone’s vocab is bounds

better than mine. it doesn't matter that

everything has worked against me and 

my time beating the odds is up because

i’m sick of all-nighters and sadness. so, 

sweet mango and low-fat yogurt, maybe

you will not save me, but i’m glad you 

made me stop for a little sweetness, a

little conversation with someone who 

maybe cares about me more than i know.