You gather
in ringlets.
The teen in
the falafel
truck sees
the coil
of your
tattoo.
Your spine
seduces
like rain
you show him
your muscle
your
beautiful mountains
you shine
calcium
teeth.
The teen
in the falafel
truck,
you think,
is a teen
who
has seen
women by
the pool.
You walk toward
him
in new sun
you ask
why he is
late.
With your face open
you ask
about
flavors.
The teen
in the
falafel truck
is silent.
You sing
to him.
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