Spanglish

Sometimes my english and spanish do not meet each other halfway.

On their worst days they are exes still cohabitating because rent is cheaper divided by 2.

On their best days they are exes who still fuck.

Seeking comfort in the uncomfortable

Longing for ecstasy in someone that doesn’t know how to make you cum.

Rolling R’s trip past my english accent as they blunder at the tongue,

Despite feeling like no home can ever hold enough space for the 2 egos to coincide,

Each refuses to pack up and leave.

My english and spanish are the couple that believe “opposites attract.”

They have history and with it, sweet memories of,

Being able to love freely, intertwined in paradox.

Moments long passed

Finishing each other’s sentences playing symphonies conceived at the heart and birthed in between lips.

Lover’s who have a hard time letting go of what once was.

After every fight

They convince themselves there is still room for improvement

Even though it has been 25 years and they have grown apart more than they have come together.

On their best days they are the couple that can host parties and save face for their guests.

On their worst days they are the couple that storms out during christmas dinner.

My spanish and english are staying together for the kids.

A constant power struggle.

Displaying mercy only in the presence of defeat.

The only thing they share is the high of getting under each other’s skin.

My spanish, gets off watching my english pretend to be autonomous.

Smiles patiently and waits, knowing there will be a moment when english falls short, it’ll be something insignificant like the name of a fruit,

But there will come a pause hand in hand with panic.

My spanish will gloat in delite,

With “I told you so” woven into a sinister grin, ready to take over the spotlight.

My english and spanish have a relationship built on a flawed foundation

But this is the only address they have ever learned to love inside of.