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.