I am from the locket my mother gave me.
From mirrors and white tulips and a guitar.
I am from the lobby downstairs, screaming and laughing with the other kids
I am from sirens on the walk to the corner store to hang out with the cat.
I am from loud music and sancocho, tostones, mangu, and rice and beans.
I am from Gloria and Luis.
I am from party people and gossipers,
from Luisa, ven aquí!
y ¿Cómo te fue con tu clase? y ¡ Cállate!
I am from holiday praying and thanking God.
From the Dominican Republic and El Salvador,
and getting stuck in a winter snowstorm.
A shoebox of polaroids and baby pictures under my bed, and photos of grandfather and grandmother on top of the staircase wall. That’s where I’m from.
I am Fascinated by your poem,My story because things you said in your story was realateble with the people in the lobby to the loud music.