Blossom
Four or five years past,
The plane lands in Monterrey, Mexico.
Approaching the gate, the humidity hits me,
I wipe my brow – it’s blistering hot,
The salt still stings my vision.
I clutch my luggage near,
Anxious anticipation, my mind clenches,
Stomach knotted, I know it’s been five summers.
Last time I saw her,
She was but a child –
Eager to impress, quick to compare.
Then there she is, waiting with the others.
From afar, I notice she is mature now.
As I grow closer I see her new complexion,
Her once-short hair, long outgrown,
We both say hello.
Still quick to compare, eager to impress,
She flaunts herself like she’s something special.
I look at myself critically; cautiously, carefully I compare.
She and I are from different worlds,
Different positions.
Last time I saw her, she was but a child.
I, child quick and eager no longer.
She and I, we’re different,
The difference? She has merely been fertilized;
I have blossomed already.
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