Tree Smoke

Tree Smoke

Went to Castillos for lunch today, and there was a tinsel tree perched on the faux balcony like it was judging me. In the late 90s, I went with my mom and her brother’s family weekly, sometimes even twice a day on foggy Saturdays. Today, I wrote a note saying that I wouldn’t mind having catering from this restaurant at my funeral for nostalgic reasons. I’ve found that I have less resolve for what I want my son to do with my ashes. Only the demand that I don’t end up on top of another dead kin’s coffin. I got cramped enough drinking their words and scent in the corner booth. Coconut hair whip in threes. My mom made fun of me for wearing bobby pins in my hair. I find them all over my house and shake.