He’s the cheese to my macaroni
He’s the cheese to my macaroni
It all started with a salute in a class
His dark brown eyes reflected that of sweet honey
We shared the same native tongue, Spanish
In that week, I fell for him
He did too
Every Thursday, after the class bell rings
I play guitar and he sings
A perfect duo for the two Latinos
I would strum a G Chord and he would sing the same tune
So blissful and sweet it was a tradition for us
There was a day where the sun was not warm enough for me
“Estas bien?” —— (Are you okay?)
It’s such a simple question but yet so relieving
I shared my hectic day with tired eyes and an empty stomach
In that instant, I was offered a hug of warmth and Nutella
It was small yet confonting
I no longer saw him as a guy from my class
He’s the cheese to my macaroni