I am from the muddy flats of the universe,
from the womb of a being.
I am from the chocolate ice cream in crystal dishes.
(sweet but bitter like people).
I am from the fig tree that branched its stems towards me.
I’m from the fidget spinners and colorful socks,
from the polar express and steaming hot cappuccinos.
I’m from “work harder!” and “be like them!”
I’m from coffee past 12a.m and no results.
I’m from stitches in my eyebrows and hand-me-downs,
with the scent of pumpkin spice.
In my memory was a chamber,
drowning in old sentiments.
I am from those sentiments,
gone in a snap and the woosh of the wind.
I am the leaf left behind.
