Perfume sits soft on her collar and I smell the fumes
The sweet cinnamon scent could make a fella swoon
Outside of the Summer Ball, 2006
The air thickens, gravity pinned down by the kiss
I was honestly lost, at the border we crossed
A lip locking peninsula of strawberry gloss
A once depressant adolescent, now earth was pleasant
Gently, she held my hollow hand and transferred her essence
Past forgotten, as we passed through Autumn I enveloped her kindness
Fingers constantly fastened in a delicate vice grip
But our blank canvas, sprawled out and fit for painting
Was rolled up and shipped off by immigration
Love lay in the Latin blood which ran within her
Reducing our future to mere ash and cinders
I groaned and ached “Hey, hold it, wait!”
She pressed her hands on the back window as they drove away
Now...
As the morning crests, and consciousness bleeds dreams away
I can’t lead the way or seize the day if I cease to wake
My eyes open with ease, now an answer exists
A jam jar stuffed full with grandmother’s gifts
A bouquet of green notes from birthdays and Christmas
Anticipating and waiting to journey this distance
Mother’s eyes in agony, father’s beam with pride
He says “Don’t worry dear, you’ll see, he’s fine”
Pick up my backpack and leave my baggage behind
My passage of life, the taxi arrives and I vanish from sight
My plane experience? A heaving grind
I’m fazed when grazed by people’s sides
Yet I seem to like this peevish flight
Cause even sour grapes can make the sweetest wine
I wonder, will our love be a straight resume?
Will I smell a fragrant plume of that same perfume?
A collision of questions, my head in disorder
Every answer lies beyond this Mexican border
Off the plane, dust swirls in the air, I’m hit with the gust
Along the rustic road I see my rickety bus
The number of passengers double the total seats
Making my fidgety flight a 5 star hotel suite
Standing, deep in thought, it’s been half of a century
I start to wonder, can she remember me?
Is there possibly a chance that it’s done with us?
Is there any conceivable way that puppy love’s enough?
We arrive in her village, I’m leaving the bus
What will I do with my life if this dream is a bust?
She’s here, I see her, now what to do?
I see her velvet skin, bronzed and smooth
Her eyes pop in the sun, the most suitable of weather
Through her tattered clothes she’s more beautiful than ever
Our eyes connect, I pray to God as it’s unfolding
Her knees weaken, dropping the bucket of water she was holding
My heart transformed to a sub machine gun
We both drop everything and run to meet up
I had prayed to god and what an offering this was
To smell cinnamon perfume and taste strawberry lip-gloss.
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