Sister by Fong Lee



Fong Lee



I brush your head with the palms

Of my cursed hands,

Gave you a pack of Winter Fresh gum

Telling you to be good

As I smoke my way out of your life.

That was when I yelled at you for

Being in my way around the house,

Screamed at you to bring me water and

Rice—to boil me noodles with eggs.

You have no clue how peaceful

It was to see the envelope in my

Concrete room with your name on it.

I found something on my face

That  I have lost since I part

Ways from the family.

My teeth gleam—illuminating this

Castel. I stood there holding the

Envelope not wanting to

Expose what’s inside.

I was afraid of what you might

Say—all the childhood memories

Tsunami their way in.

Couple months later, I was called

For a visit, worried and thrilled.

The metal door slid open

You walk in; you knew who I was

But I did not know you.

You jump into my arm for a hug

I froze, leaving you with

A neglected hug.

I thought you would be mad

That you would be shy.

No. You have so much to say

While you catches me up with

All those lost years

I sat there terrified. I only remember

The little girl with broken tooth

That I used to yell at, not this

Striking, red-lipped creature in

Front of me. How could I left you

To this cold world? Why did I fail as a brother?


OID# 217805
970 Pickett St N
Bayport, Minnesota 55003