Grandad coughs violently,
then lights another cigarette.
Grandma calls us in to eat.
The black flamingo is on the news again.
I pick the dining chair facing the TV.
Grandad asks,
“Why does it matter if he’s black?”
Adding, “The other flamingos don’t care.”
And I am certain what he’s saying is:
“I love you.”
At Larnaca airport,
I see a pink flamingo stuffed toy in Duty Free.
Daisy makes fun of me but I ask Mum
to buy it for me.
“Why don’t I get that for Anna?”
“Fine, I’ll get another one.” I return
with a second pink flamingo
but Mum is holding a bottle
of Jean Paul Gaultier’s Le Male eau de toilette.
The bottle is blue, in the shape of a male body
with no arms, legs, or head, just a toned torso
and bulging groin.
Mum says, “I’m getting this for you,
the flamingo for Anna, and this for Daisy,”
picking up a pink perfume bottle.
I put down the toy.
When we get home,
I place the blue bottle on my desk next
to my Axe Body Spray, Vaseline, and cocoa butter.
I take a shower,
