Selena is sitting on my bed,
one hand holding A House of My Own by Sandra Cisneros
and the other petting my cat,
whose fur stands up with static with each rub.
I show her my favorite part.
The part about how the witch’s broom
is the heart that takes us where we need to go.
Her skin looks less electric now.
Softer. Like a mask.
It scares me a little to look at her.
I tell her she can keep my jeans.
I got them fitted for me.
Jeans have never fit like that ever and I mean ever
but they look better on her.
Like they belonged to her always.
I give her a band t-shirt.
I tell her I want her to meet somebody special.
When You open Your door You look like
You’re going to faint and then that stops.
You are somebody who does not ever seem surprised.
Selena embraces You, gives You a kiss on the cheek.
“I’m really tired,” she says, “Los labios. Hola.”
I look at You and You look at me.
I am excited. Two worlds meeting.
You go to the sink and pour a large glass of water.
You do not say anything to me.