I look up and around
at all the other guys
with their people
Their motherstheir sisters
their brotherstheir uncles
and maybe, maybe their fathers
with their smiles, frowns, worries
fears, joys, pains, heartbreaks
written all over their faces like poetry
Their bodies—
how they lean across the tables
holding hands
how they cross their arms
protecting everything
how they pull out stuff
from bags like it’s Christmas—
If only they could be still for long enough
I would paint this whole scene
for the world to see
And Kadon, my hype man
is with an older and taller version of him
Same eyes, same small nerdy frame
and I wonderI wonder
how he ended up in here
with a pops like that
So I ask Umi
Where’s Uncle Rashon?
And she says
It’s gonna take him a little while
ThisThis really hurt him
He wants to see you, Amal
He really does