February 4 - La Reina

A mournful saxophone plays on the steps of a classical museum of modern art housing works we each pretend to understand for the benefit of the other.  And we two, like lace and leather, scowl at each other out of love as we ascend to the entrance to greet a fee that we will argue is too much but will pay any way even though you will worry about your student loans and I will worry about a child that we might have in the future.  A boy named after your father or a girl named after my best friend because you love your parents as much as I hate mine.  But we will decide it's not too much - even though it probably is - and enter a museum only to grow angrier and angrier about the fact that we both cannot admit that we do not understand modern art.