hunger - Athena Chu

mama says the sun tastes better at night

of bed sheets for skin bound to boiled bodies

of landlocked throats and unearthed tombs

tongues wrapped around two languages

while making a home out of dishes left in the sink

words mistaken for goose bumps erect

from lips spewing accents borrowed

from secondhand childhoods

in the lost and found

she tells me to plant my bones

in the grass out front and play pretend

don’t question where we are from

or where we belong just swallow

the dirt and freckles of the earth

and call them dreams