If I could I would name my ancestors

calling to their graves

promising them I am going to take our name 

and make them proud.

But every time I go to recite their names

nothing comes out. 

Instead, I whisper my parents’ names

into the dead of night.

I put my hands to my heart

and steady my lungs. 

I am enough for them

and I do not have to go to their graves to get that reassurance.

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