I keep thinking of you
No, I wasn't expecting you
Who would have known

You were so close
I want to kiss you
I want to hug you
I wanna hold you

This first time
Felt so familiar
Like we knew each other from long ago

And I held on to you
Stayed right there close to you
Let you touch my lips
Wrap your hips, with fast grip

You gave me one kiss
When shyly I said I didn't know how
And then I couldn't stop from searching for your lips
Kissing every feature of you

I keep thinking of you
No, I wasn't expecting you
Who would have known
I would be here with you

I’ve reflected a lot about desperation.
We as undocumented students
who have such high expectations of ourselves have this desperate
desire that quite frankly strips our ambitions of malice and of hidden
agendas.
We will be lucky if we are able to take the next step in our
precarious/ uncertain paths.

Therefore, our intentions have to remain
as genuine (and thus more pure; more powerful) since we are at the
mercy of those who help us continue to crawl along to our dreams.

That
hunger, that desperation, that desire and how it has pushed us, has
propelled us to the point where we have shed tears, and perhaps blood;
and as a result we have showcased a sincere and humble brilliance and
authority in our ability to thrive and succeed where it is virtually
impossible.