be careful of the promiscuous children

an auntie had said that to her father over lunch
they were talking about sending her sister to the states
she could imagine all the voices echoing

she's only sixteen! too young to go out there all alone! too young!
the neighbor would say, shrill with her neck stretched long as if it would emphasize her statement more
her parents' friends, the teachers, would sit her sister down
look her in the eye and ask her questions
well, not questions
statements masked as questions
the "are you sure" kind of questions
they probably just wanted her admit how young, how naive, how helpless she would be without them

then there was this auntie
she was nice

she was chinese

she remembered listening to the auntie complain about how awful her new handbag was
"i don't carry anything other than coach, and i try something new and this is what happens"
or was it prada?
it didn't matter, they were all the same
she looked at her aunty's handbag, and picked off the stain for her

the auntie smiled, embarrassed

it didn't matter,
it wasn't coach

now the auntie was telling dad about the dangers of large cities in the states
don't send her there
be careful of the promiscuous children!
they are different from us!

the auntie looked at her when she was saying this
as if wanting her to parrot
yes!
they are different from us!

she just smiled

give them hell sis