exhaust from the motorcycle
lingers like spilled fish
sauce and i can’t
shake the smell. around the

corner, uncles are sitting on
stools half their size
gambling and they:

- slam down the cards
- laugh over heineken
- talk about love
- gossip about things i half understand

and the revved engine is
mom’s ignored instructions
be careful when you buy fish sauce
if it ever breaks—.

the stench doesn’t leave. and
the uncles start
a new game. I watch as there
is a family walking together.

the kid’s hair is reminiscent
of a mirror from years ago.
i want to tell him:

- to learn his language
- to be proud of his roots
- to be patient with his parents–
- that it’s their first time
living this life too.

and in a different life
i would:

have a conversation with grandma for once
dream in our tongue
order food at pho kim long in vietnamese
fall in love
fall in
love
fall

so much of my existence
has been made up of
doubt, nodding my head
as if i understand and

deep down i don’t
and:
- i’m scared
- i’m anxious
- i’m unsure

but right now
i want to
save this bottle

from spilling.