"My Mother's Hope"
As a baby my
Nose lacked a defined
Bridge. My family
Clucked, “such a shame, hope
It grows, so she’ll stay
Pretty.” “My nose like
Mommy!” But pride can’t
Touch her.
She is lost
In the space between
My eyes and lips; her
Final chance: eradicate
Plateaus in exchange
For the mountains
America wears.
But mother, I am
the valleys that run
Between. I am you.
And me. And we
Are beautiful.