"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.


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