海啸 (hǎixiào [tsunami])
The inevitable wash of wave of fear of me,
me and people like me,
caught between justifying that we belong
and not wanting to claim membership within this ocean that drowns color out
into a swirling monochrome of blue and white.
If I see it coming, still I doubt.
Taught to question things I know to be true,
taught not to question what keeps the ocean spinning.
My breath catches between my teeth
whenever the words threaten to spill over,
But still they find themselves out in the waters.
Vulnerable, but right.