every summertime
i always think of your
glistening forehead, of the queen city
southern solstice summer sun on your freckled cheeks
and your eyes hopefully honing in on my heart,
where all your american dreams lay their heads.

you are always dancing to the radio in my heart,
in our cramped one-bedrooms,
    off potholed streets all over town.
we are forever united at the asian king buffet
    by prawns and crab carcasses,
under the grand opening banner which has been up
    all spring, the pepsi-blessed, post-racial future
where you eternally wipe the mucus from my nose,
    clipping my hair til it can stand on its own two strands,
and hold my head close and hand
    me a plate of palabok at parties to protect
myself, messy in many multitudes of methods and means.

i want only to wither with the burnt rice in the backyard,
but every day you save and redeem me
you say "you’re all i have," i cry, cry, and cry
i cry and still you esteem me.

because every summertime is movies and malls
    and mother and son
getting picked up from school in your '06 kia spectra.
nothing more magical than the way you love me.
i’m terrified knowing that one day you will be done,
but please still kiss my forehead, number one,
and pretend i’m seven again,
and let me live forever
in your summertime.
in every summertime you called me "langga."