This Is Me
I am from blenders, from moleskin journals and music.
I am from the hill where sunsets never disappoint, golden, warm– with a cool silky breeze grazing the skin.
I am from paddy fields, small, flooded, and swaying with the movements of the wind. I am from red envelopes and dimples.
From Melei Nguyen and Vuong Kelly.
I am from the stubbornness and travel junkie, From “no tattoos” to “greet every adult.”
I am from the solemn 40 days of Lent and fasting on Fridays I am from America, Ireland and Vietnam,
the comforting taste of Pho, crispy Chả giò.
From the premature brother who face death 3 times, and could fit my dad’s wedding ring around his wrist,
the mother who moved to America at 12 to escape war.
On the black shelf in my bedroom, sits a sparkly red box, overflowing with cards, photos, and trinkets–reflecting my past.
I am from the bronze cross that gathers the family before bed to pray, because “families who pray together, stay together.”