“Come here my puppy.”

 

You stretch your arms wide open

Waiting for me to crawl in,

All 90 pounds of my 7-year old body

Balled up into your frail cage.

 

We fit perfectly.

 

We walk, hand in hand

To the fish market on the street,

People yelling,

“Cheap prices!”

Hustling and bustling to get a bargain.

We walk home, crab in one hand,

Yours in another.

 

The pot screams and boils

As we take out our long king crab,

Glistening red and white.

You and mom cut the legs,

Fat, tender meat slipping out

And down my throat.

 

You rock me back and forth,

Cradling me with your fingertips barely entwined,

My full Buddha’s stomach peeking out

Like the white slivers in your black hair.

I slip into a dream, only to wake up

Slipped into your beating bosom.

 

 

“Come here my puppy.”

 

14 years.

That’s how long I’ve been here in America,

Never once seeing your face

Or calling you to even say “Hello.”

I slowly forgot your voice,

Your kisses,

Your hugs,

You.

 

How hurt were you,

When I picked up the phone,

Unable to understand what you said,

And not even knowing who you were?

Your rough Kangwondo dialect,

Once flowing through the roughs and grooves of my mind

Became foreign. Strange. Scary.

 

10 years passed,

And not one word from us.

As grandpa became a star

And everyone else left too,

You were lonely.

I guess your mind was lonely too,

Slowly eating itself up, trying to feed on your memories.

The only thing that was left to you, anyways.

 

I should’ve protected you,

Like the time when

I was still a newborn.

You yelled at mom

For leaning forward to eat

As I flipped for the first time

Off the couch and into the space behind her.

You fed her tears instead.

 

 

“Come here my puppy.”

 

Mom’s birthday has never been the same.

When I picked up uncle’s call at 4 in the morning,

On May 5, 2010

There were no more cakes from then on.

We all cried ourselves full,

And I guess mom ate too much.

She still cries at night, grandma.

She’s really sorry.

We’re all sorry.

 

I hope you’re doing well,

Looking from above with grandpa

Stars high above the night sky.

New York doesn’t have that many stars,

So I put them on my ceiling.

 

I’ve been well.

I still love king crab, and

I’m already in college!

Did you know we got a dog?

Her eyes are like yours, and mom started crying.

We all knew she was the one.

 

I can’t wait to see you again.

Of course, it’s a bit too early,

But when I do, will

You stretch your arms wide open

Waiting for me to crawl in,

All 125 pounds of my 19-year old body

Balled up into your frail cage?

 

We’d fit perfectly.