A daughter gives birth to a daughter,
Unknown and untouched, a stranger among strangers.

Her eyes are as big as the smile on her mama’s face,

Her being fills the tired and aching crevices of her mother’s body
As she soothes the pressure her mother has had to carry for a while now.

She looks at her daughter, really takes a look at her.

Her pale golden brown skin reminds her of the chai she used to make at home, the pungent aroma filling the entirety of the tiny bungalow cluttered with metallic pots and pans,
She still didn’t find uses for all of them.

Over here, there are strange phrases on these tea boxes, marked up with words like “real” and “authentic!” And it tastes stranger everything tastes so…bland.

She’s trying to fit into this movie poster with America as the Director and immigrants as actors, and the neon yellow flashing bulbs ceremoniously decorated around the word “diverse” because nothing feels right, even the clothes merely trying to cling onto her bare skin, as if they don’t know how to fit her.

Tiny movements and a tiny heartbeat,
And she knows why she came here.

Knowing that her daughter will never have to feel those salty tears produced by the paranoia of the unknown, making everything seem so bitter.

Knowing that tonight, and every other night, her daughter will be tucked under a blanket of opportunity,
And laying on a bed of dreams.

She stares out of the window, the warm summer breeze making her cozy and she soon blends in with the darkness of the night, hoping that everyday her daughter would be able to sleep as easily as she did tonight.