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like wet cornstarch
I slide past mi abuelita's eyes
bible placed by her side
she removes her glasses
the pudding thickens

mama raised me with no language
I am an orphan to my Spanish name
the words are foreign, stumbling on my tongue
I stare at my reflection in the mirror
brown skin, black hair

I feel I am a captive
aboard the refugee ship
a ship that will never dock
a ship that will never dock

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