On The Day Of The Dead

On the Day of the Dead
we bought two sugar skulls
apiece
from the bakery on Alverado Street.


We saved one each
for the altar as an offering to Our Lady of Sorrows,



and we ate the other whole,
popped into our mouths
like a smooth shot of anisette.

We chewed the pink and turquoise sweet

until our teeth turned blue

and swallowed the grainy reminder of death

like a prayer.

We were sisters craving a signal from you,
able only to summon a small ritual of life.