Late last night, I got back from a nine day visit to my hometown, Houston and birthplace Corpus Christi, Texas. Last time I visited was during the 2017 Houston Half Marathon, and so much has happened within me since. Because this was the first time visiting since I’ve felt settled here in Connecticut, I was able to feel all of the tough feelings associated with it.

I wrote this poem (my first since high school, maybe?) throughout the trip and wrapped it up before takeoff. Enjoy.

Houston, EX

I flew back
into your arms
ten-lane highways
open and wide
Then was grasped
bumper-to-bumper tight

Welcomed.

Or
are these roads
vena cava,
pouring me
deep in the heart?

I reacquaint
myself with you
Wide open spaces
where I once belonged

Inhaling the dense air
hot, wet, heavy
Like an early morning kiss
I can taste you.

That jasmine perfume
you’re wearing
smells so sweet
Yellow petalled freckles
dot your complexion

Did I ever tell you
how beautiful
you are?

The history of us
housed in buildings
now demolished.
Vacant lots.

Photographic memory
is what remains
The radio is crooning
all our songs.

Maybe I didn’t love you
how I should have
when we were together

Should have
bathed in your sunshine
a little more often

Should have
danced in your flood rain
a little more often

Should have
laughed with our friends
a little more often

We’ve both moved on
Forward, up
Though I still
admire your curves

My longing is apparent
a late night lust
under a neon moon
as I leave you
yet again

I wear
our past with pride
You were once my girl
And I
once yours