Pórtate bien cuatito, si no te lleva el coloradito. Behave yourself buddy, or the little red one will take you away.
The devil swims the Brazos. My grandmother met him there when she was five years old.
Momma told me not to go swim she said. Of course when I didn’t listen he’d show. Of course he would.
The devil dances with insubordinate children. Climbs their limbs to rest inside the cave of their tiny ears. Whispers the world’s sweet woes like a lullaby. Plays the harmonica and asks them to dance, dance like no one is watching
Mija, he’s waiting there for you, in that book. Waiting inside the things you enjoy.
Resting between the letters of those words you write incessantly. Why don’t you read the Bible like you write those words?
Like the hummingbird sputters. Like the moon shines. Like my daddy on a day he isn’t drinking. Like rivers begging for a child to tempt.
Like, The water is warm so please come in.
Please come in and join me. In the bake of the sunshine. Take my little red hand little girl. I’m here for you.