There are two worlds

The native one and
the one of the colonizers

or

the one where you are good and stay awake
and stare at the back of the man's head in front of you,
because you cannot see the screen of the movie about
the natives and the colonizers and
the one when you are bad and let yourself fall asleep
listening to the words of another language
hoping to still glean all the important messages

or

the one where you read all the books
and understand how things are connected
and see big meaning in not just people in the sidewalks
but in your own small grievances and
the one where you sketch an imaginary apartment
layout again and solve more problems that don't exist yet

Winter stars

frozen garbage outside the school

thrown about by 

the wind presses a scrap paper

with the negative space of a heart

against the fence

A letter

A letter
written in my lemon water says:
you can raise a baby in a studio apartment
build a translucent nomadic cube
as the baby's own little room.
You know all that you need to know
and you are ready.
Waiting is hard,
with signs like these.