Wanna Be

She was right off the boat
Speaking those smooth lines
Of a language forced into her mouth

He was your typical gringo
Claiming to understand
Those force lines that divided them

He never understood
Her Spanish phrases
She always found
His love of grits a little confusing

They claimed their lives together
Their souls swirled together like
A pint of dulce con leche ice cream
So different yet mixed so well

Conversations through electrical wires
That connected his odd nihilist tendencies
And her optimistic values
Sometimes those ideals clashed
And other times meshed

They traded mix tapes
With their cultures merged in between verses
And the silent pauses
But with those pauses came
An uneasy feeling

“Why does it matter” he shouts,
“Love shouldn’t judge on differences.”
He saw the world in black and white.

“You have that luxury,
that I wish I could afford.”
She viewed life in Technicolor.

Begrudgingly they pressed on
but 700 miles grew between them
Five hour phone calls
Became 20 minute ichat conversations

Slowly their garden of mix flowers
And oak trees
Began growing Spanish moss
As beautiful as it looks
It is gradually killing them
Those silent pauses become minutes
Those minutes into hours

He loves her.
She is afraid.
She is his Latina princess.
He is her white oppressor.

He wants to give her the world.
She wants to claim it for herself.

He talks about a small one bedroom
while she is speechless.

She wants his happiness,
He wants a wife.

She watches the moss,
He looks towards the sky.

The moss climbs up her legs
While he gets his ending.