for my parents to return.
a child who knows the embrace
of their parents best when wrapping
their small tongue around
their names. who has a photograph
they can point to & say
there, there is my mami. whose guilt
masks itself as hunger
for all the bodies that were swung
into the clouds. who says once, i gave
the night all of my tears & I have not seen
my mother since. who never learns
to stop looking up into an echoless
sky expecting an answer.
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