january sixteenth
Thomas Nguyen
it has been eight years
since your body fell
apart, and I still
find myself trying to find you
everywhere.
the way flashes of light
seem to converge from a point
just beyond the clouds
and reach,
I think it might be you
trying to get through to me.
you used to trace
the contours in my palms,
calloused fingertips
trailing from the curves
as you struggled
to tell me
they were lifelines.
tell me
bà ngoại
would you let me
rebuild you?
calcified bone
netted rib
with bloody heart
and the living body’s noise.
