Original Sin

All we did was bite the papaya,
then we heard the pst-pst-over-here

& we followed the voice into stalls,
a bathroom dark with graffiti,

black-markered words taking flight,
& there the other boys sniffed glue

out of plastic grocery bags, one sniff
at a time, deep and resonant

the bathroom’s insistence of echo.
In our highs we spoke of girls we liked,

but who didn’t like us back, we spoke
of their ribs, their breasts, high cheek

bones. Americanas, blond gringos,
ricas & delicious, but oh so forbidden,

until we emerged into the light, a snake
about our feet, a serpent’s malice

on our tongues, and we spoke out
of them, us Cuban-Mexican boys,

our hairs slicked back, our teeth broken
on this juicy plump fruit of the damned.

*Virgil Suarez was born in Cuba in 1962. Since 1974 he has lived in the United States. He is the author of over fifteen books of prose and poetry, most recently In the Republic of Longing, published by Bilingual Review Press/Arizona State University. Next spring, his sixth collection of poetry, Palm Crows, will be published by the University of Arizona Press. He divides his time between Miami and Tallahassee.