Writing

immigrant who you me they us / weren’t those stories our grandparents / my parents did it too / somehow different / borders more disparate / almost like time travel / to shift place to place / assimilation never spoke of the earth / but one must seep into it nonetheless /

me they us / we all see l / once you arrive are you them / do they become us / amorphous impalpable identities / being belonging she he me ours yours mine / even though we they me he she / our collective pasts differ / the webs we extend onto dirt / dirt that came here / from somewhere too / standing here now can hardly feel there anymore / climbing in search of anchors / here there was is thousands of layers / between land and sky / warm yellow sun radiates as before / the hour moonlight envelops sleeping forms / eyes sting blinking coasting in limbo / like an ocean wave comes from there / but never really ends any place / crashing and relinquishing its position / change made sense in the beginning / once you migrate your eyes / you see differently /

emigrate and smells seem unfamiliar / but the juice of a golden orange can be sweet and sour / wherever the season / lime green appears wholesome / in distance memories transform / become odd and unfamiliar / the place between here and there