Excuse Me, Do You Know That Place?
Can you take me there?
read →home
family, memory, and the ground beneath my feet.
I am the witness, the keeper of memory.
Mama
it'll be okay
read →The People Are Dying Here
As I grew older, I started to question whether migration really ends suffering or simply changes its shape. This poem is about my mother, but it is also about what the children of immigrants inherit long after the border has been crossed.
read →