Diagnosis

Mamá tiene cáncer.
I felt like a delivery man
holding a box that had been 
on back order for some time.

There would never be a time
it would fit neatly into our lives.

He came back into the room
towering over me; I thought
he would slap the cancer I had
spoken into existence right off
of my mouth.

Neither one of us cried.
Not in that moment, not in
the few short months after.

It was a package ripped
open for us to stare into. They
didn’t even leave instructions.