In different times
보고 싶어요 (bogo sip-eoyo)
I whisper
to my dead
omma, who was
young in the 80s,
telling her—
“I miss you.”
Like some other
adopted Korean
girls—my heart
hurts so I stir
up cures. We
were brave, tough
little girls
of the rural
Korean peasantry.
I was usually
the secretive
friend who
blew out
her birthday
candle, a girl
in a sunhat
running out
of a doorway.
My dictionary
says 유성 (yuseong)
is a “shooting
star”—show me (on
the map).