I have two names. But I never say that when people ask me what my name is. To my newly made childhood friends, I would cheerfully chirp “my name is Sarah!” and took immense pride in my English name. I would search up what it meant and the same thing always popped up with the cheesy phrases and baby names websites: “Your name means princess! The Hebrew origin of the name was featured all throughout history.” I would be overjoyed. I would brag to all my elementary friends that

My mother asks me what I want, and I say love She does not know I mean love from her She only knows love as the meaning of eumsik. Food. To fill the belly , she says. Then what of my heart? Her mouth is webbed across a series of countries, Her tongue unable to shape what it means to speak simply in the American language Her gaping mouth in the shape of an O , the only distinguishable feature of her being her eyes as I watch as more lines continue to appear with her smiles.

She must be proud, so her head lifts up high. She must be fierce, so her brows curve intensely. She must be strong, so her muscles ripple endlessly. She must be brave, so her eyes show no fear. She must be powerful, so her coat ruffles luxuriously. She must be destroyed, so her mind is the remainder. A cacophony of colors is not enough, so she becomes the rainbow. A menagerie of marbles too dull, so she shines brighter than the sun. An ocean of coral would be insufficient, so