I find a sunny place to survive. Every morning, a new magnum opus greets me & I am so awake & my parents don’t have to worry.

the pen pierces the point in the plane of my graphing paper, at rest before it swoops, curves, and loops, where am I?

My father insisted that I should have perfect handwriting.

In the refrigerator: an unopened bottle of orange juice with half the sugar already missing because my mother remembered

My mother tells me of half recalled grandparents With possibility of tainted blood, of self destruction Of women who hid with their sisters

This is what joy looks like: palm to palm, radiant, mga kasama. Sing like every tomorrow is infinite

Finish Filipinx American History Month on a strong note and show Elsa Valmidiano your support!

Every morning in paradise, the locals go out to bury the remains  tourists have left in their wake under the sand.

heliotrope sprouts from the palms of his hands, the dirt sifting between his thin fingertips

Love expanded like a thought in my head circling like a snake made of smoke whispering of an endless hunger.