What El Salvador Meant to a Three-year-old

an iguana in our empty pool 
            his eyes jumping wild 

a metal fence around the yard 
            where naked boys waited outside for food 

Senora Catalina slapping papusas for supper 
            my Spanish name that wasn’t me 

sacrament cups that bounced when they landed 
            floors that made my Sunday shoes click 

Dad building sand cars around my body 
            dark waves tumbling me over and over 

not remembering how I arrived 
            or how I returned