Poems by Daphne Guzmán
Photographs by Deborah Guzmán

It’s 83 degrees   The sky
is full of humidity and you decide to
squeeze your big-for-its-age body  into
last year’s Halloween costume ‘cause
You think it’ll be amusing        to pretend
to be Tigger again      bouncing
on the porch

You think it's funny—
               more than half of your extremities
sticking out of the cotton-polyester blend
designed to keep    you warm     on a
blustery autumn evening—
and let me take a picture
but act aloof
as though you are doing me
a favor     Barely 4 years old
already making business deals.


You pose by looking up and above    as if thinking
of the consequences of being alive—
what it means to be human in this
modern age


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