Seeds (Part 1)

The past kisses hard and buries itself deep in my belly,
seeds spill out of my mouth, taking shapes of islands.
I give them names, spanish sounding names
and place them around our bodies.

I've kissed your roots, your Western dreams.
I've imagined myself in the most boring places,
always at your side.

I am dumb & blind and will follow you drooling.

I want to be the plastic boyfriend, the gym-buddy boyfriend, the sexy boyfriend.
I want to be half of that gay couple that all the
heteros invite to their dinner parties to make
their Crayola collection complete.
Him? He's a doctor and has a dick that won't die.
Me? I run marathons and avoid carbs after 3pm.

I hold on, some days bitter,
some days happy & blind.
I hold on but I can't wrestle from you what I want.
No more piercings, no more accents.
No boy, no sweater to keep you warm.