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Guadalajara fue mi primer amor, 
Tender and head dive first.
And like all first loves it was never in the middle,
It was angry either like the hard, rapturous rain,
Or smooth and gold like the syrup of sweet potatoes sliding 
off a toddler's face

She consumed me the same way,
Wanted me to come closer, closer,
Until we were both wrapped in her green mossy barranca, 
Too deep to notice we were suffocating.

Right before drowning, I ran out.
The faster I ran, the tighter she pulled.
Until I cut the noose and left. 
Told her she held me back,

that we were too different,

wanted different things,
Wanted different lives.

But the truth is that I wasn’t sure anything could hold me.
No street within her could hold
the yearning I can’t quite name.
No pueblo could fill the emptiness 
I felt next to her.
The desire to be close yet far away.

When I was finally thousands of miles away,
she whispered with a grin

"Maria, don't you know first loves
never last?".