I grew up in a carnival,
A country type of fair
No, really I did

In a tiny seaport with black sands
Off the Pacific Coast
In a Central American town

Giants on stilts
Confetti-lined streets
During Easter

Statues of Catholic saints
Borrowed from a guilt-ridden
Pseudo-Catholic Church

An equally pseudo-priest
Fucking boys
on a pew

Widows in black
Counting the days
When they would be fucked again

I am not bitter
Nor bothered, really
But, let’s call them as it is:

This tiny seaport was lovely
But, like them all despite of language or culture
It hid secrets I know all too well now

But, I see pictures
Of the sweetest sunsets
When I knew nothing

And I want to go back
With a lover or a girlfriend
And say:

Baby, look: that’s where I grew up:
Guatemala, Puerto Champerico,
You’re forever in my blood

-haven

(Art by some cool person who knew of Tumblr in my hometown)