I am from cheap rubber slippers
from infamous Spam, and sodium nitrate

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I am from the salt in the air
and sand, soft and warm, even in the winter sun

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I am from the plumeria; white, milky, fragrant
the mango tree, which I would climb all day and call friend, my home
I come from exchanging coins for teeth, and average Joe’s, but youthful skin
From Grandma A and B, and fat bellied Wong’s I never knew
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I am from the hoarders and anti-socials
From, “eh, how you stay” and “always try your best”
I am from ghosts, Menehunes, and superstitions of old
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I am from Oahu, Big Island, and the valley isle- Maui
From day old rice, fried hot with eggs and oyster sauce
to Kalua pig roasted deep in the ground
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From the plane we were snuck on that brought with us a single mother
the Pop! Pop! Pop! of firework celebrations with cousins, aunties, and uncles
and feeding dragons with my Popo who’d seen a century of time
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I am from an ivory satin pouch
Buried deep in my dresser miles away
Each item smooth, golden, or broken
Covered in a memory