Bitten red nails

Soon I will be able to board a plane

it's been more than sixteen months

You have been watching telenovelas

surrounded by your souvenirs amalgam

lying your loneliness on rainbow cushions

that you have sewn from old umbrellas

I see you from these three thousand seven hundred eighty one

miles across the Atlantic

sitting on the blue couch

polishing your bitten nails red

matching your thin hair

I see you eating an ice cream cone,

the cheap kind from the supermarket

laughing at your diabetes

while you make false promises

to a Monday.

I see you watering the plants in the small balcony

of your apartment,

the artificial red roses and yellow tulips

that you inserted in the soil

to create a fantasy of a paradise garden.

I see you on the twenty eight

at the parade

wearing fluorescent green shorts

fanning the heat wave

with one hand

and holding with the other the PFLAG banner

at the head of the march.