We Speak Liminality

A poem on being biracial and between worlds

Photo by Rodion Kutsaiev on Unsplash

I speak bap
and I can hold a conversation in Uncle Ben's bathed in
butter with cinnamon sugar

I speak goguma and french fries too

I speak sauerkraut on the side of grilled bratwurst
but my kimchi fermented in scowls along Haeundae
beach sounds better

I speak japchae and spaghetti noodles too

I speak seaweed the way it washes ashore in Goleta
but I can sing seaweed dried in the sun and roasted with
sesame oil, cracking and
wrapping around a ball of hot rice

I speak the language of here and there
fluent in the liminal space of two

by Tasha Jun