...I guess I can't call you my "next boyfriend."
That would imply there was a "first boyfriend."
I apologize, in advance,
Because the path to my heart is overgrown,
Infrequently traveled but torn asunder,
Like indigenous paths after the first colonists' visit.
One came with a force too large,
A future too grand,
For the tender trails not yet worn
By the footsteps of the world.
One came as Quetzalcoatl,
And I was a deluded Montezuma.
I lost a piece of myself to this Cortez
And I do not recognize myself today.
One made the arduous journey,
Through jungle and over mountain,
On the tiny path left in his predecessor's wake,
But knocked too gently on the door,
Leaving before it could be opened.
So I applaud you traveler for making it this far,
For coming to a temple I have kept hidden,
Warded against the world.
Forgive me for making the stairs too steep
And the zenith of this ziggurat too lofty.
I welcome you to this sacred space,
Often celebrated but never filled.
I encourage you to sit down in this place of honor
And hope you do not wither in my perilous heart.
I pray that I have not enshrined a false idol
One with deaf ears, blind eyes, and a painted mouth.
Listen carefully, watch attentively, and speak wisely
For I count on you to breathe love into my lifeless lips.
An exalted but heavy mantle I know.
I would not blame you
If you retreated back to the heaven,
You surely sojourned from.
So just, at the very least,
Hold me fast to this whirling world
Keep me from spinning into orbit.
Press the warmth of your chest to my back,
To my black coal heart and rekindle
My faith in love.
Pull me close and give me gravity.
Match neck to nape and form from two, one shape.
Just hold me.
-Your future boyfriend