"papi et mami"

i ghost waltz
with the sprained footprints
of my fading ancestors

i fumble words as we dance
our tongues are hollow to each other
we communicate incomprehensible babbles
me who lost our native language
who whispers in French and English

you know loss well
you spell it S-A-I-G-O-N
pronounce it "family"
define it as identity

my loss is not Vietnam
i never had it to begin with

my loss is you
papi
mami
i weave your broken ghost scrolls
with my own worried words
to write a world
for my seeds to find comfort in

my grandfather's burning stories are dying out
am i the one who's left to tell them?

are my children going to know Vietnam
know the prison camps, the helicopters, and the wartorn streets
or are you going to be faceless speechless and nameless
a lie in a US History book?

i carry your ghost on my back
a child piggybacking his mother
i'm a lost boy in America
when i think about you
i'm so scared to live
i'm so scared to die

sacrifice is an inherited scar

"papi et mami"
i will not give up search
we both know loss well
but i will find you

you
who i don't even know yet