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Still Searching
I. Texas
when i peer into the mirror's frame, seeking home,
it whispers of Dallas,
a memory more felt than known,
where people say “howdy” and “y’all”’
in their thick, Texan accents, which i
don’t own. when i see my old Texan friends,
they sip at their sweet tea
and i stare at my cup of plain chamomile tea,
an outsider to my own past.
II. Florida
my friends call me the ‘sunshine girl’
because they say i’m bright as the Floridan sun.
i wear a smile, a sunlit disguise,
letting Texas fade like a distant dream.
because they say Florida is my home.
but i wonder if you still have those
silly little plastic flamingos
on your lawn, standing guard,
and if your blue sky is still unmarred
and if your trees still have that green sheen
every winter
i’m not there.
III. China
the star-spangled flag ties my tongue
so that i stumble over my ancestors’ language,
but the red flag wraps around my body,
so i can’t run,
as my people’s history clings to me, inescapable.
here, i watch as others crack sunflower seeds,
an easy rhythm of discarded shells, a pile
next to my untouched seeds
as i fumble my hands to pluck the shells apart.
and every Mid-Autumn Festival,
as i pick at mooncake,
under the gaze of the Chinese moon,
i wonder, does the American moon
still remember the whispers
of a girl caught between worlds,
still searching for a place to call home?
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