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not at all what i thought you would be.

so much more and maybe a little bit less.

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you make me miss chilaquiles, sharing all of my food, grungey-hipster neighborhoods.

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i am no longer home-sick for kentucky. i am homesick for my home. for juan manual 911. i am homesick for luisa, rodrigo, pilar, xi, i am homesick for places and faces that are no longer there. for deep cultural understanding, for knowing how to pay at a coffee shop and where to take the bus to see all of my favorite people.

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this poem doesn't have a bridge,

not yet.