If I could I would name my ancestors
calling to their graves
promising them I am going to take our name
and make them proud.
But every time I go to recite their names
nothing comes out.
Instead, I whisper my parents’ names
into the dead of night.
I put my hands to my heart
and steady my lungs.
I am enough for them
and I do not have to go to their graves to get that reassurance.
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