A woman with a worn-out smile
pushed her trolley in a spree,
in the busy street of Paris; cars kissed
the mouth of another, there were no spaces.
Pause, her trolley screeched; she turned to me, saying,
‘how long has it been
since a Filipino got lost in the rue?’

She knew.

A white man in a down jacket greeted me in the corner
of the Louvre, hands inside his pockets.
‘Ni hao’,
said he
repeatedly
then walked away,
a smirk. My chest boiled. I was
not Chinese,
but I understood
what he said.

My thin, moony eyes
should not be blamed for the mistake

he knew not he just made.

Caris Cruz

 

Caris Cruz is a Filipino writer and illustrator. Her poems were published in the crowdfunded feminist anthology 1001, along with other online platforms.

© 2018