I am of neither here or there. I am in between
Here and not yet
I am of liminal spaces on bated breath.
I am of two nationalities, separated at birth
I am of places floating by in windows of cars planes and trains.
My reflection the only still constant.
I am of “Ni Chi Fan Le Ma?”
I am of great walls and forbidden cities
I am of hands that grabbed me in curiosity
My tight blond curls as the prized possession
I am of babies in boxes and churches in homes
I am of albums of kodak photos; trying to memorize each one
I am of the melting pot of San Francisco
I am of ghost whipping cars 2Pac and E40 on blast
I am of redwoods and foggy oceans
I am of churches brought up by congregations
I am of sacred hymns, kyries, and liturgy
I am of a pastor and his wife
I am of a broken home ending in affairs
I am of painted horses and expansive skies
I am of bison rugs sleeping under the stars
I am of mountains valleys and rivers
I am of flour and toil, pastries in hand
I am of “Que Onda Guey?” “No manches!”
I am of slips and shakes and shatters
I am of “Vida De Mexico!” as people chant through the broken streets
I am of homes working with small children sold by their mothers
I am of oil on rice paper pouring wax from my brush
I am of water connecting me to everything
I am of a cultivated garden and curated gallery
I am of clay, forming and emulating the creator
I am of the binding of my being, where He mends me body and soul
