Who am I more like, my mother or my father?

I have my mother’s face and my father’s humor

But my eyes are my father’s and my hair is my mother’s

Although from a certain angle it seems that I have my mother’s nose

And my father’s teeth

But while my lips curve in my mother’s smile

And my eyes crinkle into my father’s

And though my shyness is my mother’s

And my temper belongs to my father

I sense, through my mother’s worry and my father’s words

That maybe some part of me

Is hiding

With my father’s tenacity and my mother’s silence

Some part

Is hiding

Under my parents’ skins