Slowly summer ebbed away. There was bright
heat, sometimes green. You tutored me each day.
I was slow and you were frenzied. You would bite
my neck, scratch my back; while, “mientras te
estoy montando,” in your dad’s bathroom.
In two months you’d go to college; until
then I bent you double, pierced you to your womb,
ruined your throat until we would both spill
all that was inside. I will always be
this: dull and dim. I couldn’t follow you,
despite the español that you taught me.
I can’t find you since I’m without virtue
and you’re as real as an acid flashback.
Memory of what I want, hold me back.
In Spanish, “mientras te estoy montando,” translates as, “while I’m riding you.”