Where I Am From

I am from unrest,

from hope and miscommunication.

I am from illegal fireworks, cars backfiring and gunshots,

from paella, ice cold pools,

limbs overlaid in feverish siestas while bad TV spasms in the background.

I am from long commutes and longer flights,

from let’s never bring it up to let’s never shut up.

I am from not saying I love you, either because you don’t have to,

or because you’re too scared to,

with everything lost already,

the evil eye curse that can’t be lifted.

I am from the memory keepers, the mind readers,

the survivors, the dreamers and the drinkers.

I am from recycled olive oil and matzo pancakes,

from the lack of food that turned into tradition.

I am from the things we tried to forget but cannot,

and the things we tried to remember but forget.