Daughter of Sinaloa

Dahlia always wakes with the scent of Paloma the tequila and Piña Colada the rum on her young breath;

Dahlia gives herself to the every kind of golden shore of poison in every kind of pretty little glass.

She can’t remember how she got onto the stage with the predatory audience

But she dances like she’s seen it all and laughs like God can’t her.

She can’t remember how Sinaloa became her new home

She can’t remember what California ice cream tastes like.

She can remember the milky van and the tattooed fox who collected pretty and homeless,unruly girls.

She can remember the drink he offered her

It was one of many.

And he is like the alcohol

Gold of the skin and swirl of her mentality

She is like the glass that holds her daily sin.

To block out the haze of working for Papi Chapo she rides those toxic dreams and remembers the gin when the sun bleeds and the vodka when the heat stings.

She turns diamonds into snow for a living

She turns married men to adulterers for a price she never sees.

Tomorrow,

Like today

She will promise to run away and tomorrow,

Like today

Will wake up in the afternoon with a headache and the toxin in her body.