The Music Next Door

The low, mariachi wails sound
like they did before
I knew what they meant.

(The mourning dove coos, 
the carpool shrieks & airplane
rumbles, the errant
Chihuahua yaps,
the soft buzz of flies on trash—
those are all familiar language). But,

"Pecho...
...esclavo...
...piel..."
The trumpets: 
I almost forgot


xo, Sadie