the story begins and ends with marriage,
or a lack of marriage, which turns

into a confession. you confess
there is a gun, hidden in the dirt and

grass and no one really remembers it anymore,
but everyone can remember a job well done.

a father and his son lean their heads against
one another, in their childhood home,

only the father was always a myth in the making.
you wish you could remain underground,

but you get pulled up by the hairs on your neck.
you die, over and over again, for reasons

your parents only anticipated. they take you to
the hospital, where the lovers reunite, if only for a moment

and there’s nowhere the ghosts can’t touch you.
your mother is poised to shoot, but it only hits you

once she’s already gone. ¿cómo pudiste hacerme esto?
there is a lake, where the girl you love is forever being

born untouched. the body of spring brings new surprises.

the father wasn’t lying – your hands are
made of prayer when you touch her neck.

Joan Angel Estrada (he/they) is a Mexican writer from Southern California. Their poetry is dedicated to queer people first and foremost. His work is forthcoming in Sunday Mornings at the River’s Summer 2021 Anthology. You can follow them on Instagram @rockingoceans.