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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,